Inside the clothing shop, it was warm. Which was something of a relief, seeing as outside it was overcast, with sheets of rain pounding down upon the ground and a chilly breeze--unusual for summer, certainly, but Nori had seen stranger weather. Besides, normally it rather liked the cold and gloom. Nevertheless, the long walk between its house and the store had left it chilly and in a more sour temper than usual, thanks to the harsh wind--which it liked, but which was nonetheless uncomfortable--and the rain--which it didn't like. The warmth offered by the seamstress' establishment was mildly soothing.
Mildly.
It was so that, when the girl in the front room glanced up and spotted Nori and let out a cheery "Good afternoon, miss!" that Nori glowered at her rather fiercely. Not that she saw, of course, because it had its hood well up. But nevertheless, it was with a certain coolness--rather than its normal tonelessness--that Nori replied. Today, humans, with their idiotic, automatic need to gender every person they came across, annoyed it; so did the seamstress' cheeriness, which had no place on such a miserable day. Of course, if Nori were in a state of mind to be fair, it would have acknowledged that on that particular day, after a long walk in the pouring rain with the stump of its arm acting up again, anything would have riled it.
"I need new clothes." Of course, that should have been obvious--for what other reason would it have ventured out in such dismal weather? Certainly not for a pleasant chat, that was certain, though Nori wouldn't be above taking a few jabs at the round-faced, pink-cheeked girl just for fun. But the poor woman was obviously quite stupid, so Nori decided to elaborate. "I've already had my measurements taken here -- I ordered some new ones made a while ago. The woman said that they would be ready today. My name is Nori Rainchild. If you can...?" If you can read, Nori finished silently, but left the sentence delicately hanging; its mockery was kept to itself, and it let its meaning be read as something far politer. Its voice was clear, cold, bland; the girl finally stopped tweaking the dress which she had just finished putting on one of the display dummies, pushed a strand of mouse-brown hair behind her ear, and glanced over at the door at the back of the room. At first she didn't seem to understand Nori's meaning; then the expressional equivalent of an "oh!" of comprehension bloomed rather unbecomingly across her face like a livid bruise, and she said,
"Right away, miss, right away--just one moment, the clothes will be in the back." With a broad smile, the girl disappeared into the back room. Nori waited, and thought--almost wistfully--that if it had more time it would stick around to bully the girl and intimidate her; she seemed completely unsettled by its drawn-up hood and chilly, expressionless voice. Then again, Nori had come to regard Arca as a pit of humanity--and other species--and wouldn't be surprised if she had had far, far stranger customers. Or even downright insane ones--Nori was glad to be able to attest to the fact that that was one thing which, despite everything, it was not.
A short while later, Nori was venturing once more out onto the streets of Arca, with a wooden box clasped under its left arm. It had been rather confused by the fact that the seamstress' packed their clothes in wooden boxes--surely it was expensive and cumbersome. But the girl had said that it was a tradition, had rambled on for a while about Lothia the Weaver, the founder of the establishment, and her insistence on wooden boxes, and had eventually become so irritating that Nori had found itself dispassionately contemplating the idea of giving her a box--a nice hard one, on the left ear. Right would be a bit tricky, seeing as it had no right hand. And speaking of having no right hand, the box was damn awkward to hold under just one arm.
A few other people passed by Nori, many of them also sporting cloaks with the hoods pulled well up; they gave it some odd glances, for its gait was awkward with its attempt to keep the box from slipping from its tenuous hold, and eventually Nori grew tired of it and slipped between two buildings into something... well, it could hardly really be called an alley.
Then, just as Nori was about to turn back onto the main road on which it lived, there was a loud clack! and the sudden absence of the box underneath its arm.
The box lay before Nori in the dirt, between a derelict-looking two-story shack with a broken window set at ground level, and a shop with three shuttered windows in a neat row and a quaintly thatched roof.
Nori sighed, and with a carefully controlled surge of impatience crouched before the box. Reached out its left hand. Tried to pick the box up. Hopeless; the box, rain-wet, slipped between its fingers. There was no purchase. Damn, thought Nori, and allowed itself a brief glare at the box. It knew better than to even attempt to use the stump of its arm to lift up the box; even if it weren't hurting like hell, it would be impossible.
It's at times like this, thought Nori with annoyance, as it straightened up, that I wish I could do some simple levitation. But no. The idiot mage wanted me to be a killing machine! So I can blast apart an entire castle--and yes, pass out for a few days afterwards--but I can't levitate a fucking poxy wooden box...
No. No! This wouldn't get it anywhere, getting angry. Emotions--wasteful. They clouded its judgment. So Nori cast around with its eyes, absently pulling the hood tighter, for anything that it could use. Nothing came to hand at first, but Nori was certain that with a bit of looking, it could find what it needed to pick the box up. Of course, if worst came to worst it could open the box, pick it up, and awkwardly close it again, but then its newly-made clothes would get wet, which was something Nori wanted to avoid if at all possible, though it would be better than just leaving them there.
It came to Nori, very suddenly, just how ridiculous the whole thing was; there it was, standing and looking around, completely at a loss as to how to deal with a box it couldn't pick up. A box full of clothes. How... petty. And shameful. Nori carefully harnessed the irritation and angry embarrassment, and bitterness over its missing hand, and redoubled its efforts, turning back to search the stretch of alley behind it. A sharp stone, maybe, which it could dig into the wood. Utterly ridiculous, completely demeaning, completely bizarre... but Nori wasn't about to admit defeat to a mere box. Oh no.
