OPEN POST; [ VALSA LEY / ORIGINAL ]

[needlecrafts]

❝Do I miss the shadows? The knife edge between life and death, the needlepoint that threads the two together?
I don't know the answer to that anymore.❞

(( but it starts out fine ))

Comments

cross stitching

[nerine]

[Someone left their wallet. And they left the Midnight Grind's door ajar.

Monts tells herself that it should be okay to leave her shift. It's been a dreadfully slow day, so there were no customers to attend to, and she left a note and a text to Oren and Iona to let them know she would be back in a few minutes—with the addendum to come look for her in case crossing into an unknown world bites her in the ass.

See? No one could complain about her not covering her bases.

It's surprisingly easy to navigate this city she's in, at least in terms of blending in. This world had a mostly human population; good. Humanoids are a consistent constant, as Oren said. She may not have changed out of her jeans, black scoop neck shirt, and black apron with the embroidered Midnight Grind logo, but even if it garnered her some curious and possibly affronted looks, no one went out of their way to bother her. Yet.

Saxea is the name of this city; it was easy enough to glean by floating noise and conversation of its peple. As Monts idly looks around, she thinks about where to track down the customer and how to get back to the Grind. The latter is hardly a concern. She's more worried that someone will be without their week's wages or whatever the equivalent was in the leather sleeve.

Her whims lead her to knocking on a door to a small business. It feels safer to ask someone inside than just anyone out on the street.]

Hello? Are we open?