[stitch] [open ; csw]

note: This is Geebs' character Vicky Barci, whom I have claimed for the week due to Character Swap Week.

colors from picture of vicky's faceclaim
AABBEE EEDDFF 668899 554444 474C69

It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word

The moon waxes into being as she sits by candlelight, finishing up the last of the sewing for the day. Her back aches, turning her more into a turtle shell by the minute with each second spent bending over the sewing machine, heedful of any mistakes in the handiwork. Being lazy just means that you'll have to pay for it later, she tells herself as she slaves over the senescent machine, which rusts each time winter comes to deliver a frost that chills all of District Six until it becomes frozen and unbearable. It's times like these when she wishes that she can be back at home, where it's warmer, but alas, she must sew the last few materials before she can escape into her sanctuary. But even now, the thought of settling down on the couch and just listening to the notes that emanate from her broken-down stereo causes her to smile, and for a second she's distracted from her work and barely hears the machine sputter.

"Shit," she mutters as frantic eyes glance down to see what is amiss. She grumbles to herself as she notices a few stitches that are looser than she wants, but gasps in horror as she turns the fabric over to see a labyrinth of thread that has entangled itself into such a monstrosity that she knows that it will take a large amount of time to undo. You're such an idiot, Vicky. You need to pay more attention to these things! She sighs once, mumbles something incoherent under her breath, then gets back to work, her mind focusing on nothing but her work for minutes on end. The seconds tick by as she concentrates, and all that is audible in the small, drafty room is the whirring of the sewing machine once she manages to fix the mistake. It's times like these when Vicky wishes that someone were here to keep her company, like Bear or Caine (but not Nikko - his temper tantrums and deceased rabbit are enough factors for her to never consider dating him ever again), but it seems that her men wander off, never to be seen again. Most times, she's alone, and sometimes, she wonders if that's all that she'll ever amount to:

Vicky Barci, seamstress, single.

Perhaps it's cliché, but Vicky has always imagined living her life happily with some guy who will appreciate her, rather than whine and shout and pay more attention to his rabbit than her. She's wanted a calm, cool and collective person who would be willing to listen to music with her while the fire crackles next to them as the night grows long and peaceful. Maybe she has even wanted the typical life with one husband and two-point-five kids accompanied by a decently sized home and a white picket fence. But it seems that she has gotten anything but that.

First there was Nikko, the Peter Pan of District Six. For a long time she was his girlfriend, and perhaps she thought that he could change - he'll mature sooner or later.. But soon they were in their twenties, and she knew she had to leave, lest she be tortured with crybaby Nikko for eternity. So she packed her bags and left for the second one: Caine, who treated her like she should be: with patience, respect and adoration. But then one day he simply left. No warnings, no words. She hasn't seen him since. But the third guy simply makes her wonder what kind of guys she truly likes, for he just might be insane. Bear Keeni makes her heart swoon when she thinks of him, of his manly looks, snarky remarks and cannibalistic tendencies. He's like a puzzle that she has yet to figure out, and she loves that about him. Yes, there's danger involved and the ever present threat of being chopped up for jerky, but she relishes the adrenaline she gets when he draws near, the two creating a harmony that would seem to be impossible to create. After all, how could a good girl like herself fall for a criminal?

She doesn't truly know, nor does she really care. For it truly doesn't matter why she has fallen for someone (in the most literal sense), it just matters that she has done so. For with love comes all of the things that are good in life: happiness, good fortune, peace; and Vicky would prefer to have some of each in her life. She reckons that it would make everything better, even tonight, which is filled with undoing threads and restitching and many, many yawns. But after hours of labor, the last pair of pants has been hemmed, the last Reaping dress has been refitted, and Vicky is done for the day, with eight hours remaining until she is due back at work to begin the cycle anew. She stretches once, her mouth opening wide in a never-ending yawn, rubs her bloodshot eyes, which have retained dark circles from hours of labor, and starts the walk back home, her heels clicking on the stone as she locks the shop up for the night.

She shivers as she walks down the dimly lit-street, her memories wandering to that fateful night where a certain cannibal tried to kill her with a blade. But oddly enough, the memory is anything but horrifying; rather, it's filled with passion and intrigue and steps towards an unknown path. In fact, she feels warmer already when she thinks of Bear and his smirk, and as she looks upwards at the snow trickling down from the heavens, she just might feel happy, and a smile crosses her face as the flakes land on her eyelashes.