Beyond the Myth

D

dulde

Guest
Original poster
Characters:
Name: Madeline (Mattie) McNally
Age: 22
Height: 5' 4"
Personality: She's eccentric, and enjoys adventure. Curious, sometimes a little too much, and unafraid. Or if she is afraid, she doesn't show it, deciding to put on a brave face. She can be a bit of a pottymouth and she tends to have mood swings, especially when she doesn't get a full night's sleep and hasn't had coffee. She has a high-strung personality and is almost always working but she loves what she does so she usually doesn't mind. Though she has a tendency to forget who and what's around her when she is lost in her work.
Appearance: She often changes the color of her hair to whatever she pleases, and she has one lip and the eyebrow on the opposite side pierced.
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Name: PJ (Last name is Hanson in the human world)
Age: 23
Height: 6'0
Eyes: Green
Hair: Black
Personality: Stubborn in a rather charming way. Easy to get along with, if you can get past his feeding off your emotions. (More development here as the roleplay goes on)
 
I don't have time for this, Maddie told herself as she drove through the rain back to her studio that she rented out in the city. Her client had visited her earlier wanting to see how the garment she was making was coming out and when she went to retrieve it where she swore she left it, it was gone. Her client talked about how he figured something like this would happen for Maddie had a reputation for having garments that suddenly go 'missing.' The only reason that it hasn't managed to affect her business is because she always managed to remake the design in time for the deadline and she made sure her client would love it so much, they wouldn't care that she had screwed up.

It's not like her clothes always go missing, but it happens often enough so that Maddie is slightly concerned. She knows she can be disorganized, but she doesn't think anyone can be that disorganized. Besides, once anything she makes goes missing, she never finds it again like you think someone would after a while. Yet it never turns up. Maddie has tried coming up with an explanation to it but she honestly can't think of anything. Perhaps someone is breaking into her studio while she's back at her apartment and stealing some of her clothes? Yet the studio has never shown signs of anyone breaking into it. Unless Maddie forgets to lock it up sometimes. Though Maddie feels like with the crime that's been getting worse (especially in the crowded cities lately) she wouldn't be so careless.

Maddie is shaken out of her thoughts as she arrives to the studio. It's pouring out, but she doesn't care to waste time so she jumps out of the car materials in one hand and a cigarette in the other (she doesn't smoke often, but it sure helps out when she's stressed like this) and runs inside her studio. Luckily, there were some things that she wouldn't need to re-do such as the measurements and stencils, and she still had a little more than a yard of fabric. She dropped her stuff onto the ground and traced the shapes of the stencils she made earlier in the week onto the fabric before getting out her fabric scissors and cutting. "This is going to be a long night," she grumbled to herself.
 
PJ was watching as one of the pixies, green and gruesome, tried on a new outfit, which was stolen. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd just happened across it whilst snooping through someone's store, and instead of conjuring up money (glamoured leaves), she'd taken it. The five finger discount, if you would. When she twirled for him, elated, he brushed a finger over her arm and just took away the feeling. He earned a squeak of distaste, and then he was walking away, satisfied with the experience. Needing emotions to live on in a faerie world wasn't hard, because the Dark court was overthrowing the queen as he walked, and thus there was an overload of it. PJ just didn't want to be around when everything happened, it made him look guilty.


Off to the human realm he went, passing through the veil carefully, and appearing in the human world on the other side. He got a speechless look from a man who had been trying so very hard to get a ride, and he flashed a small smile, taking that feeling too. He grabbed a stick, turned it into an umbrella, and held it over his head for good measure. It may have not affected him as it did others, but it didn't mean he wanted to get wet. His clothes had been changed from the usual man-at-arms garb into a pair of worn jeans and a button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.


This world seemed just as chaotic as his own at the moment, and he'd heard word of riots in the streets over minimal things, and the faeries were running wild, with no real queen to enforce the laws they were meant to abide by. He wasn't particularly the type that would be stealing anything that was tangible, so he wouldn't be getting into too much trouble if he had anything to say about it. A woman was going inside a store, looking rather unhappy, and he decided to follow her inside. She hadn't locked the door behind her, so he figured he could either play the lost traveller or a paying customer. Probably the sooner, because he had no leaves on hand at the moment.
 
Maddie was focused in front of the the sewing machine, extra needles held in place between her lips. It probably wasn't the best habit, but it always ensured that she had the needles on hand. When she places the them on the table, they usually roll off and mix in with the pattern on the floor, making them incredibly difficult to find. She had just started sewing the pieces together, when a clap of thunder outside made her jump and look out towards her front window.

Much to her surprise, she saw a man standing at her front door. She hadn't even noticed him come in, but she figured he couldn't be dangerous if he hadn't done anything while she wasn't paying attention. She's had more than her share of city tourists come into her studio, either curious or more recently, escaping some of the shady looking people that had appeared. Her friend had warned her to stay away from their University for a little bit because of protests and riots going on over there, and the University isn't too far from where her current studio is so it wouldn't be a wonder that some stranger would want to take refuge in here. When the city riots were first starting, Maddie had made more of an effort to go to her classes, but her professors themselves had stopped attending classes if it was too dangerous to travel due to either weather or people. They always postponed it, so she was generally unaffected. Still, recent times have made Maddie wary of other people. Especially those she didn't know. Besides, she was in a bad mood after having to remake her clothes for she knew she would literally be here all night.

"What do you want?" she demanded, in a none too happy tone.
 
She was sewing something, and a glance around told him that she was some kind of designer. Judging by the mannequins and fabrics, clothing was her precise calling. She was at a sewing machine, and he had his suspicions that this might have been where the pixie had gotten her new clothes, and several others had been walking around in things that just weren't found in Faerie. The fey were a conservative people as a whole, unless you strayed into his court.


Well, she'd seen him now, and she wasn't screaming. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, but he checked his glamour and it was still in place. No problem there. He had left the stick playing umbrella outside, intending to avoid soaking her floors with the droplets that clung to the nylon fabric. He ran a hand through his dampened hair and studied the blonde thoughtfully. She didn't look all that surprised that he'd wandered into her shop, so that was a good thing, he supposed. The woman wasn't shooing him from her presence so she could keep on with her work. The riots down the road were audible, but he didn't really want to be trampled in an attempt to take away the frustrations of the people. Besides, they wouldn't have anything to riot about if he took away their anger. PJ was far too kind a person to just let a good one go to waste for his own needs. No, he'd find someone else. Perhaps a frustrated fashion designer. It took a lot to keep the grin off his face when she was asking a rather demanding question, not happy. He hoped she hadn't intended for him to be scared off by this.


"Refuge." He replied simply, shrugging his shoulders and holding out his hands in mock surrender. "I can go if you want me to."
 
Maddie let out an exasperated sigh. "No, no," she said, sticking the needles into the pin cushion. "You can stay here for a bit, you're not the first." Her tone suggested that she wasn't exactly thrilled by that fact that this stranger could stay or that this happened often enough. Still, the police should be heading to the university now to take care of the situation using a non-conventional way that was sure to make tomorrow's newspaper headlines. Maddie knew that until then, this man probably had nowhere else to go since most stores were boarding up in fear of being looted. As a fourth year universerity student, Maddie couldn't afford to just board up and wait for the literal and figurative storm to pass, so she's been taking on clients as usual. Only difference is that she keeps a pistol in the back and a knife in one of the worktable's cabinets (you never know, after all). "I'm Madeline, by the way," she introduced before getting back to work.

After getting a good look at him, she figured he was harmless enough and that the man wasn't one to come to this non-tourist-friendly part of the city. From where she sat, she can tell that the man was a nice sight to the eyes, but she tried not to focus too much on that as she worked on getting the whole garment pieced together. The garment itself was more modern though with the silk she was working with, expensive and clearly for a formal event of the sort (she had nearly cried when she learned the original was gone because it wasn't cheap). Luckily, she hadn't started beading the dress when it went missing so the crystals were still packed away for her to add later. Though it was a cause of much stress, Maddie had to admit that when she had to remake an article of clothing, it always came out better the second time since she had already done it before.

Lifting her foot off of the pedal, Maddie once again looked up at the stranger. "If you're just going to stand there, then go get me some coffee from the machine in the back room," she said, none-too-welcoming. But hey, this man caught her at a bad time. "And if you steal anything, I'll kick you out even if those riots are right out my front door," she warned.
 
He was triumphant. Now, touching her? That was a completely different story. Being successful in his work would be truly hard, seeing as she already didn't like him. At least, that was how it seemed. She probably wasn't thrilled that someone was walking into her studio to take refuge while she tried to recreate the pixie's dress. He probably wouldn't even tell them to stop, if it gave him reason to think she was a beacon for emotions and turmoil within herself. Frustration was a sweeter taste than most anger could ever hope to be. Happiness was like a sugar cube, and he didn't really enjoy it, anger was metallic, much like blood. Frustration was like coffee to him. It was a pick me up, though it was harder to find in the morning, he'd come to notice over time. Her name was given and he nodded. "I'm PJ. It's nice to meet you, even if you don't necessarily agree." He told her, looking through a disgarded magazine, not caring enough to even read most of the titles.


The woman, Madeline, was who he really watched, unable to read her. He blew out a loud sigh. Mortals, or more precisely, artists, were by far the hardest of all creatures. They may have produced the most emotions in little time, but if you didn't get the local prostitute, who was willing to do anything for a few bucks, touching them was harder, and skin contact was necessary for him to survive. He was an ice court fey that had joined the dark court when the current king took the throne, a good man for all that he was worse than most pixies, and far more intelligent. While he had no trouble converting, sometimes it was easier to just eat a fruit or meat instead of feeding off of innocents. By the time he had stopped moving around the shop, just looking around to feed his own curiosity, he was stopped beside her work table.


She looked at him and told him that he was to go get her some coffee, which caused him to look at her incredulously. She was to order him around? Oh, the laughing stock he'd be if another fey saw this. He did though, walking into the back room and getting a cup, pouring the coffee. Her warning hadn't gone unheard. "Oh, you caught me. I'm here to run away with all of your fabric." He said, sarcasm thick.
 
Maddie didn't acknowledge when the man introduced himself, though she heard him quite clearly. She was nearly done sewing the pieces together, which she was grateful for. Unfortunately for her, however, this was not the hard part. Sewing, if you had a steady hand and loads of experience with different kinds of fabric, didn't take long if you were in a hurry. It was the draping, hemming, tailoring, fitting, and beading that would take the longest since you had to be extra careful, especially with a material such as silk where any mistake would show. She sighed in frustration as she knew that the night ahead of her would be a long one indeed.

"Hey, I'm just saying," she responded to PJ's sarcasm as she turned off the sewing machine and stood up from the chair she was slumped in to stretch. "I say this because of experience." Though the only time she actually caught someone stealing her fabric was back at the university in her first year where she shared studio space with someone who never liked to lock up the room, much to her dismay. Maddie headed into the small storage room where she had loads of tools, fabrics, and other objects loaded up and stacked high. She reached in to grab some of the padding that she could put on the mannequin to fill the clothes so she could probably hem and tailor it as well as grabbing the yellow-white crystals she would use to bead the base of the dress. Her arms loaded with supplies, she backed up and shut the door of the closet with her foot. "There's a couch in that backroom, if you want to lay down," she yelled over the bundle, her mood feeling slightly better now that she can actually start working from where she left off. Besides, PJ would be out of her way if he stayed back there.
 
She hadn't batted an eye when he told her his name. It wasn't something most fey approved of, but it wasn't like he told his full name to anyone at all. That name, it was dangerous. Knowing it yourself made you a danger, let alone an unknowing human that didn't know the strength of their words if they were to get angry and use it in an argument. It was particularly awkward when 'Peter James Gere kiss my ass' came into play, because it was to be made in the literal sense. He couldn't even lie to himself on that, another downside of being a faerie. You can't pick your family though, so that was that. He walked back into the main area, coffee in hand.


"Well, I promise I'm not a closet thief. The things I steal are far less tangible." He told her with a cheeky grin. She probably would perceive it as a cheesy pick up line, and be done with it, while he really was telling her the honest truth. He wasn't able to do any different, but withholding information wasn't important in this case. It would have been different had this been a completely different conversation, like one including faeries. PJ doubted that she believed in them though, the stories had faded to things far more friendly than he was. Tinkerbell simply didn't exist. Maybe she had, but something far bigger and carnivorous had probably eaten her at some point in times. Harsh reality, he was sure. She returned to where he was with a pile of things, each less identifiable to his untrained (and uninterested) eye. "Polite way of telling me to back off. Got it." He said with a nod, and waited for her to set down her things before he handed her the coffee, waiting for her to accept it. Hopefully, she wouldn't be too suspicious when his hand brushed hers and all the sudden her current emotion faded away.
 
Maddie raised an eyebrow at his 'stealing' comment, not knowing nor quite caring to look into what that might mean. She just figured that this PJ guy was just an odd fellow, which is nothing new in the urban area in which she lives. She set the pile of supplies down onto the worktable near her sewing machine and reached for the coffee, her hand accidentally brushing PJ's. Maddie felt an odd sensation go through her, one that sent chills up her spine. She felt her frustration dissipate, and soon after another emotion she was all too familiar with but constantly tried to bury through coffee and work -- exhaustion. Though exhaustion was more of a physical state than an actual emotion, but it was something that Maddie tried to ignore when it came on.

Maddie looked at PJ oddly, wondering at the weird sensation she felt. She reached up and rubbed a hand against her forehead as she leaned against the table and took a long gulp from her coffee. Closing her eyes, she dismissed whatever weird feeling it was and just tried to enjoy the jolt of the caffeine that was now in her system. She sighed at PJ's comment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude," she said, feeling a little guilty on being called out on her rudeness. "But you really did catch me at a bad time." It was a half-assed apology at best. On the one hand, she was unnecessarily rude to a man seeking refuge, with her frustration gone, she could see that more clearly. However, she was still busy and had a crapload of work to do and she wasn't in any mood to deal with people.

Maddie set the coffee down after another long drink of it and wiped invisible dust off of her pants. She reached for the pads that would help give the mannequin some shape and started pinning them to the lifeless model. She found that with her frustration gone, she could think clearer and felt grateful that the caffeine was no kicking in because she was now feeling more alert. Maddie looked up at the stranger. "PJ was it?" she said as she draped the garment over the mannequin. "If you can go lock the door and windows for me, I'll let take refuge here for as long as I'm in here. I'll probably be here until the morning and by then the streets should be clear," she suggested, looking outside worriedly as she saw the storm was getting worse yet the voices of the riots and protesters were still getting louder.
 
Just as he'd hoped, she just disregarded his comment about theft. He had to wonder what she was thinking, especially of him in that moment. She was obviously thinking of him as a burden, and in a way he was. Where as Madeline had a reason for life and work to do, PJ just went through doing as he pleased, just as he had for years and would do for roughly another 200 before he became one with a tree and faded, becoming a shade. He pushed the thought of the inevitable death to come from his mind, too busy soaking up the fact she'd touched him. Her frustration soon left her and joined him, which was more than okay on his behalf. The fact of the matter was, feeding off of emotions was far too much fun for him. It was like a challenge.


She looked at him, a strange expression on her face, and then he looked at her curiosly in return. She'd noticed it, but had no real explanation. If only she knew how right it was to assume that it had something to do with PJ. Something said it wasn't a very good idea to let her know that, or that briefly he felt that emotion. He glanced away from her, getting a grasp on it before looking back to her. "You're probably within your rights. I'm bombarding your personal space." He said with a shrug, and then looked at her oddly. "Well, I offer my apologies." An apology from him was like the devil making an attempt to apologize to a human for damning them. Rare and probably a myth. He took a step back, planning on leaving her to her space. Probably not going to take up residence on her couch until she kicked him out, he probably would just take a little look around again, perhaps try to figure out what use a sheer material was.


It was something that he probably wouldn't mind seeing a woman dressed in, but no respectable person, human or (most) fey, would walk around. It would be easier to just go stark naked. She looked at him and asked his name, causing him to nod cautiously, not really sure what was in store. If she was kicking him out, he'd go, but would surely return for a repeat. She had probably given him enough nourishment to last the next twelve hours. He honestly didn't want to venture out into the streets while the rioting came closer and closer. She told him that he was welcome to stay as long as she was there, and he grinned. "Thank you." He said, completely sincere. He walked away from her then, letting her get to whatever it was she had to do to the dress, wandering throughout the materials. "May I ask you a question?" He asked her.
 
Maddie was crouched at the bottom of the dress. The dark silk was a little long, so grabbing some pins from her pin cushion, she measured as to how she should shorten it. She didn't want to shorten it too much though, since the back of the dress was still supposed to have a train that trailed on the ground. She often didn't inquire into her clients' personal lives, but with the amount the woman was willing to pay for her work, it must be something important like a wedding or formal party for she pressed the date she needed Maddie to finish the dress right into her head with the amount of times said date (tomorrow night) was repeated. Maddie rolled her eyes at the memory. At least this dress, if finished, will help pay for her books this semester.

Maddie stood up from her spot on the floor, her eyes on the dress the entire time. "Hmm?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow curiously and looking up momentarily at PJ, who she had honestly forgotten was even there. "Go ahead," she said as she reached into her box of supplies and pulled out the little spool of thread that she would manually sew to hem it. She sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted at the thought of doing so. She pulled the dress off of the mannequin and laid it across the worktable, with the bottom of it laying across her hand as she began to cut and sew.

((Sorry it's a little short))
 
He flashed the occasional glance her way, but did try to stay quieter than normal. He was a talkative person, it sprouted from the fact he liked to flirt, probably a little too much at that. He wouldn't even try it with her though, at least not tonight. Let him revise, not at this exact moment. The dress looked wearable, so he couldn't grasp why anything else had to be done to it. Wouldn't it be worn anyhow? Dragged through puddles and shut in car doors, just as many others that paid astronomical prices for something they'd wear once and be done with. He worked for a king, he knew the drill. It was just like a mistress, only good for one night and then cast off with the rest of them. He wouldn't tell her that, though. She'd probably get a little defensive of her livelihood.


PJ was asking for the sake of breaking the silence. It was uncommon for him to handle quiet for long periods of time, the emotions in the air normally dissipated, leaving him unsatisfied and a bit peeved. She told him he could ask, so he held up a bolt of cloth. "What is the purpose for this? Something tells me you don't make lingere." Faeries were curious beings, with little reservations or filters as to what was appropriate and what was most certainly was not anything of the sort. He stayed where he was, free hand holding the place among the other fabrics, so he didn't lose her spot. If there was a system of organization, he didn't understand it, but nonetheless, he was careful.

(It's fine)
 
Maddie raised an eyebrow at the question. "The purpose?" she repeated. "Of the dress? Of my making the dress?" she continued and rolled her eyes at the lingerie comment with a slight smile. "The reason I'm making the dress is simple: I'm being paid," she said simply. "And I enjoy making clothes. A lot. So if someone enjoys wearing my clothes, I don't see why I can't make a living off of it." Had she not been trying to both talk and work at the same time, she would have gone off onto a whole spiel about it. It wouldn't be the first time someone inquired into the nature of her work. Her friends, parents, and even her fellow classmates and clients have wondered as to why she does. Especially when she's pulling all-nighters and stressing herself out beyond belief.

"When I'm finished with this dress, the woman who wears it will feel beautiful simply because of something of something I created" she said, a small smile on her face. Maddie looked up, slightly embarrassed. She always goes off on these long rants about her love of clothing and designing to anyone that asks or even anyone that is there to listen to her ramble. "It's cheesy, I know," she confessed, sheepishly, "but I really love what I do. Even when I'm doing a crazy rush job like this." She gestured to the dress that would have to be done in less than twenty-hours. She glanced at PJ, grateful that he was handling the garment with care, and gently lifted the fabric up to finish the backstitch hemming she was doing.

Maddie leaned back from her stool and reached into her toolbox for the small bag of crystal beads. Now this would be what would take her all night to do, because just like the hemming, she had to sew in these crystals manually and very carefully. Silk was such a delicate fabric, she couldn't afford to screw up. Literally. It was the money she made by making clothes that she used to fund her supplies. You have to spend money to make money right?
 
He nodded, her repeating him to make sure she had the right question. "Yes." He said simply, brow furrowing when she rolled her eyes at his comment. This was not to be taken lightly. "And if you weren't able to make a living off of it? You'd just.. quit?"He asked after listening to the things she stated very simply for him. It was probably for the best, as he couldn't be trusted to listen to any kind of extensive explanation that he would actually have to think about. Humans were strange. Everything revolved around money. What was so bad about feeling good? He just couldn't grasp what was so bad about feeling good. In his opinion, if you didn't have good feelings about something, then it wasn't worth pursuing. Then again, he didn't need money to do anything. He could glamour something to look like money, would be accepted as it, and move on without thinking anything of how he was affecting the economy. When they found a leave in the drawer at the store, someone would probably lose their job, but they'd be able to go after a goal.


Her words though, they seemed... heartfelt. That was new, he'd never been able to see humans as anything but unskilled worksmen that provded lovely targets for him and others like himself. She, on the other hand, was taking the time to do this on her own. She hadn't hired someone to do it for her and insisted on amounts of money that were completely unrealistic for what it really was. Hand sewn or not, it was a cloth. Admittedly a silky smooth cloth that felt good against the skin, but a cloth all the same. He leaned over her shoulder to look at what was in the bag, careful not to touch her. She seemed too content to take it away from her right then, because it would be undoubtedly replaced by something else.


PJ found himself backing off once he'd gotten a good look at what she was doing. She probably thought he was some kind of child trapped in a man's body at this point. Not exceptionally far off, really. He wandered toward the windows, looking out as people seemed to be backing up dangerously close to the studio. As long as she wasn't victimized here, he'd be content.
 
"Pfft," she snorted, as if the idea of quitting because she wasn't making enough money was so ludicrous it was funny. "If I don't make enough money, I take my sewing machine and move into a box on the street," she half-joked. In reality, she would probably just move into the studio if that were the case. She has had moments where she's been late on rent and her landlord had made a few threats if she didn't pay, though she always managed to scrounge up some last minute cash. "I knew before I went to college that I wouldn't be making much money. This isn't exactly a job that pays well if you're not famous," she explained, getting slightly lost in the rhythmic sewing of the crystals.

"Curious, aren't you?" she laughed, batting him away. She knotted and looped each and every bead twice to make sure that they would stay in place and not hang loosely. She had to be careful though because she didn't want the thread to show when her client would wear the dress, and despite the difficulty of doing this, Maddie couldn't wait to see the dress when it was finished. She had designed the dress in front of the woman would wear it, to make sure it was exactly what she wanted. The dark blue almost black silk with the crystal beads towards the bottom that gradually faded towards the waist. The dress was backless and flowed just as Maddie had intended it to. She played with the silver lip ring with the tip of her tongue, a habit of hers she had developed after getting her lip pierced.

Maddie looked up from her work as the noise outside got louder. Her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed. "They're getting closer, aren't they?" she asked rhetorically. She let out an exasperated sigh, carefully setting the evening gown aside to walk up to the front windows. That was just her luck, that riots or some random crazy event would happen while she was trying to get work done. From the looks of it, the police haven't even tried to calm the riots down yet, much to her dismay. "Maybe I should shut everything down and move my work to the backroom, just to be safe," she pondered alloud.
 
He looked at her with surprise. Dedication? In a time of chaos and turmoil, where even the rich wouldn't go untouched? Absolutely absurd, but impressive all the same. "Let me know how that works out for you." He taunted, a small smile forming on his face. While he couldn't begin to understand her, he respected her in a lot more ways than one. That was a noteable thing, especially with a man sworn to no one. Self-sufficient, as they like to say. "Well, it's simple then. Get famous." He told her with a cheeky smile. Her trouble was that it couldn't just happen that way for her as it would for him. She didn't have as long as he did to make a name for himself, if he was willing to give up Faerie full time.


He frowned when she batted him away. "Can you honestly blame me? I am a male you know. Shiny is naturally attractive." He told her with a shrug. He could never do sewing, he'd always had to pay a seamstress if he were to get into a scuffle or, when he was younger, caught a sleeve on a branch and have it patched up before his mother found out. Oh, how angry she would get at him. He bit his lip to hide the smile, just because he didn't want Madeline to believe him absolutely insane, smiling at nothing. He was interested in seeing the outcome of this piece, as it apparently would make the wearer feel beautiful even if she necessarily wasn't. Of course, no clothes could make someone beautiful inside, but that was an entirely different story, for a different time entirely.


He nodded silently when she asked if they were getting closer. He doubted they'd move into the shop, a vast number of them faeries that were far too easily intimidated by the man who'd been the right hand of a dead king. Of course, when they were riled up like this, one could never be too safe, and if she chose to move into the back room, he would not be the one disputing the idea. "I think that may be a wise idea. You never know what kind of people you're going to get in crowds like that. They're staying away from storefronts, but most of them are abandoned." He told her gently.
 
Maddie snorted. "That's easier said than done," she joked. She had a feeling that with the average pay roll of someone in the fashion industry, she would still be living in a box even with fame. The more famous you are, after all, the more it's going to cost to keep the business running and the more expensive it'll be to make clothes. Either way, Maddie sure had a way to pick the one industry that was sure to leave her broke. Especially with the cost of her schooling. Maddie shook those depressing thoughts away, she'd cross that bridge when she comes to it, but there were other things to worry about right now, she observed as she tried to get a good look at the approaching group. That wasn't easy to do considering that the rain made it hard to see out the window. Still, she didn't want to attract any unnecessary attention by having all her lights on and standing by the windows. Though her main concern was the rioters, she was still incredibly worried about the looters who took advantage of the chaos and robbed the local businesses and stores.

At PJ's wise advise, she couldn't help but feel her earlier frustration bubble up again though it wasn't directed at the man in her studio. "And my fucking car is out there too," she groaned, rubbing her temples against the oncoming headache and cursing herself for thinking it was a good idea to drive her car into the city. Maddie swore under her breath and kept muttering said swearing as she hauled her large sewing machine none too gently and carried it to the back room and setting it on the small round table she kept in there. She unplugged the coffee machine and set it in the ground, all the while grumbling something about how "The idiot rioters were getting in my way." and "Who even wants to be outside in a storm like this? We're on a fucking flood watch!" She was pissed and more than a little concerned for her safety for she had never been so close to the riots before. She knew they were going to be here today, but was left with no choice when she couldn't find her dress. Maddie sighed again and went back to the main room to grab the handful of supplies and a mannequin as well as very gently carrying the dress back to the small room while shutting off the main lights to her studio space.
 
"Well, if you're good, then it shouldn't be a problem at all." He teased, knowing very well that wasn't the case. It was his opinion, that the people that designed the clothes of many stores were actually quite dull in comparison to the more original works of personal designers and seamstresses worldwide. Of course, he had only been in the other realm and this town, which had once been rather quaint, a polar opposite from how it stood now, most business owners having run off, though they wouldn't find peace anywhere. News stations were talking about the riots every day, and the crimerates were soaring. Theft, murder, kidnapping. Everything that they could ever hope to stop, but with the majority of police officers leaving their posts to protect themselves and their families, the world had gone to hell and been spit back out. He had a look around the shop. It didn't look nearly deserted enough for his tastes, so he looked at her, asking for permission. "Can I knock a few things over? I'll clean them up, promise." He said, sounding like a small child offering his pinky to an adult.


She was growing frustrated, and it took a lot to not reach out and touch her. This wasn't the time or the place to do something like that. It'd probably be poorly received, even though his glamour (and even his unglamoured body) was seen as attractive by most. He was among the lucky few who looked almost human when he was in Faerie. Summer fey were the most like them, as they were all happiness and good feelings. Dark court followed because of the fact they needed to blend in. The winter ones truly varied. He was watching as she moved her sewing machine, not really sure where to offer help without getting in her way. Madeline then came back to gather materials and other things that he couldn't be bothered with, though he was greatly amused by her mutterings. They would solve nothing, but if it fed her frustration, then the more mumbles the merrier. He followed her into the back room, taking a seat on the couch she'd spoken of, and looked around curiously. He hadn't looked at much beside the coffee machine the first time, and now he was wondering why. It was small, but it didn't need to be too big. He didn't know what she used it for, beside the coffee maker needing a plug in.
 
Maddie looked at him suspiciously, but a loud smash and a chorus of shouts startled her. "If you think it'll help, go ahead," she said gesturing to the studio room. "Just don't enjoy yourself too much as you destroy my shop," she jokingly warned as she plugged in the sewing machine. She glanced to the mini fridge in the corner where she kept a few snacks and reached in to grab a bottle of water. As she sat down and got back to work, she let her mind wander a bit. Maddie was glad that she let PJ into her shop, and PJ was lucky to have come in. She knows the chaos outside would seem a lot worse had she been here alone, and she didn't think it would be pleasant for anyone to get caught up in that mess. Speaking of mess, she sincerely hoped that whatever that smash was, it wasn't her car. Still, if the rioters didn't destroy, she was nearly sure that the storm would.

"The whole world is going to shit, and I'm in my little shop making clothes as if this city hasn't been run into the ground" Maddie mumbled none-too-pleasantly. She recalled first seeing the natural disasters that were occurring -- hurricanes, storms, tornadoes, wildfires -- and as the casualties rose and homes were destroyed, people began getting angry with the government for not doing more for them. The costs and damage took a huge toll on the government and its people and the economy fell. As the economy fell, the people got angrier. That's when the riots and the protests and boycotts started and as time went on, it seemed to have been getting worse. Maddie herself was faced with a tough choice on whether or not to leave the school and the city and go back home with her family, who was thankfully safe and in a safe area. It wasn't easy to say the least, but a part of Maddie figured that if she left now, she would never be able to come back, even when things were better. There was nothing for her in her hometown, and she clung onto the hope that things would die down soon and she can keep going with her life. It was naive to believe, she knew, but what else could she do? She wasn't the only one that stayed behind. Many of her classmates and enough of her professors stayed behind too so she could continue going to school. For her professors, school was the only income they had coming in so it helped keep their families from becoming one of the many people struggling with money. For her students, she figured they had to make a similar choice as she did. Also, since the world wasn't completely destroyed yet, if they left school now, they would be stuck with no degree and a crapload of student loans that no one can afford right now.
 
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