The carriage pulled up to a large building which looked like a giant pillar crystal. There were no windows in sight, and only a single exit visible from the road. Golden lettering spelled out the name of the building over a set of ornate double doors.
The Okoian Museum of Costume, Fashion, and Textiles
TO wasn’t sure a museum was a great place to start a date, especially since DH had never shown any interest in museums. They had chosen it because Lendulin said that they should choose something they’d both enjoy. DH will know if you’re not having fun. Choose something you’ll both enjoy, so neither of you feels guilty.
A museum, and a chance to do more research and learn more about the planet, would interest TO, but even with grand displays of ancient and modern costumes and clothes, they weren’t sure if it would interest DH.
“I hope you like this.” TO said, “They have an exhibit that shows the progression of fashion on Arkane from its antiquity, through to modern times.” They held the door of the carriage open for DH to get out, “But… If you don’t think you’ll like it, we can do something else! I found a bunch of other things nearby we can do or see-”
“NO!” DH said quickly as they jumped out of the carriage, “I really want to see this!” They looked at TO, their eyes wide, “Celesto mentioned this place when he was measuring me; he said there’s some of his work here, And Lendulin mentioned it once or twice too when we were talking about dying techniques!”
TO didn’t remember that conversation, but they hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the fashion talks.
DH linked their arm in TO’s, their ears twitching with excitement. “Let’s go! I can’t wait! Sometimes they actually have artists there who have worked on some of the stuff, and they show how it was made and the inspirations!”
TO grinned and let DH pull them up the stairs to the large door. They seemed to have picked an excellent location to start their date, at least.
======
Sealskin was a common fabric used in precolonial days. It was, of course, still used today; the cold weather coats they bought were made from similar fabrics. The old clothing was much different from that, comprising of simple tunics painted with dyes that the ancient people of Arkane used to make from dried flowers, bug shells, and fish oil.
“Clothing dyed with a variety of colors was a privilege reserved for those considered royalty in the village.” TO said reading off a sign that hung below a display holding two mannequins wearing such outfits, “Since there was no fair economic system, the royals of each community took most of the best resources for themselves, and those of lesser ranking had to satisfy themselves with what was left over.” They looked up at the clothing hung behind the glass. There were two sets; one consisted of a long skirt and a baggy tunic which was brought in at the waist on the mannequin by a wide belt decorated with intricate embroidery. Dyes decorated the furs in a series of lines in green, blue, and purple, with red dots set where the colors met. The other - presumably the one that would have belonged to a commoner of the time- was shorter, had only a few green stripes on the edge, and seemed frayed and worn out.
“It’s beautiful!” DH said, entirely enraptured by the bright colors of the first outfit. “Can you imagine that even primitive civilians could wear stuff like this?”
“Well, only some of them.” TO said, glancing back at the tattered outfit.
“Yeah, that’s because the kings of the time had control of everything, and took everything for themselves.” DH said, not looking from the fancy outfit.
Was that really how it was? And even if it was, was there a difference now? Lendulin hadn’t been able to get the outfit she wanted because she was legless. Even aside from that, those who lived in the Outer Ring didn’t have the same housing, the same food, or the same medical care as those who lived further inland. They knew that if they were to ask Ark-1 about this, they would say that some civilians are simply lazy, and do not wish to take part in the economic system. They do not wish to work, and as such, they do not contribute to society. Those who do not contribute do not get to experience the bounty of civilization.
Lendulin was just legless, and that caused her problems. They had arrested Petra during a protest. Neither of them were, from what TO could see, lazy.
“Do you think that’s really how it is?” TO asked.
DH nodded. “The museum has accreditation, doesn’t it?” They said, “It has King Decon’s royal approval?”
This was true; the Statement of Accreditation hung in the entrance to the museum in clear sight, a sign that King Decon approved of this place, and approved of what they taught.
King Decon wouldn’t teach lies, nor would he approve of them.
“Look! There’s an entire section over there for sub-aquatic clothing!”
TO let DH pull them though to the next section, where subaquatic civilian mannequins wore braided seaweed and shells linked as well as outfits made from sewn together fish scales and a strange woven fabric made from some kind of ocean floor flower. The shells reminded TO of the clothing Lendulin wore, and of what they saw that octopus-like mother making in the Outer Ring. Did most Sub-aquatic people wear the same things? They figured they’d find out when they visited the North-East quadrant; Thalassa, as Pearla called it.
After the display on sub aquatic clothing, they moved onto the more advanced clothing from later times which involved some synthetic fabrics, but they were still mostly natural, and of course all from Arkane. Much later, there was a kind of wool from one of Arkane’s moons- some now extinct animal that lived there once had produced a strange, very soft wool that became very fashionable for a while, but then Arkane came into King Decon’s kingdom and the clothing became far more varied from influences across the galaxy. For several centuries, the planet seemed to lose interest in anything that had been traditionally Arkanian; The popular style suddenly became very dependent on clothing from the most populous areas of the galaxy as Arkane discovered the bounty of King Decon’s kingdom.
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It seemed to be only in the last century that Arkane was drawing back some of its old style, the lighter fabrics from around the galaxy combined with the brighter colors of Arkane’s origins. TO found the exhibit on modern Arkanian fashion to be most interesting, as it took fashion from all over and gave it a slight Arkanian twist, using subdued, but numerous, colors and intricate floral embroidery. One outfit that sat on display under artificial sunlight showed what seemed to be a fully blue gown at first glance, but when you looked closely, you could see other colors quietly snuck into the fabric, waiting to be discovered by discerning eyes. When they saw this, TO glanced at their own outfit and noted that the emerald green romper had red, blue, and purple worked into it.
A loud, booming voice speaking nearby startled TO from their thoughts “I saw these beautiful dresses, and I asked myself, how can I give them LIFE? How can I take all these colors from my mind, and just put them on the gown?” TO looked around, irritated. Sure, there was no problem with speaking in the museum, but why did this one have to speak so loud? “Well, you can imagine it took a lot of effort, but I created a painting method to create just what was in my mind. My good Friend Celesto - a Savant really, you must see him and have something made- could use that technique and apply it to fabric. It’s all top secret, of course.”
DH gasped, “That must be the artist!” They said, “The one that Lendulin works with! Venturi, right?”
“Right.” TO said, but before they even said it DH was hurrying off to go see him. TO felt their ears perk up, and their lips twitch up into a smile. They cared little about Venturi, but they were so happy to see DH so excited. It wasn’t until they had almost reached the crows that surrounded the loud voice that they remembered back when they visited Lendulin the first time, the way Pearla seemed to dislike Venturi so much. “He’s an ass.” she said then. TO wondered why she disliked him. At first they thought it was just because of the way some legged citizens of Arkane treat the Legless, but Venturi hired Lendulin and paid her well, so that couldn’t be the case.
“Mr. Venturi, your work with colors is just… divine!” a tall, insectoid woman said as she gazed at a large, framed picture showing a person with long black hair, wrapped in iridescent black fabric, “I didn’t think you could make black look so cheerful! How do you come up with these ideas?”
An avian person - most likely Mr Venturi- came up to her. They were nearly as tall as TO themself was, covered in blue-green feathers, and had a more human-like mouth as opposed to a beak. He also had both wings and arms, rather than hands, at the corner of his wings. There must have been some human in his bloodline; it lingered through the genetics and spread through the galaxy. “Ahh, my dear Mrs Anoitos-” He said, “You know I can’t reveal my secrets! The secrets the muses whisper to me for my ears along, and given to your eyes through my medium.”
Leaf-like appendages on either side of her head flicked out as she apologized, “Of course, of course, how silly of me. Please, forgive me for asking. It’s just, I’m such a fan of your work! I wish I could be half as talented as you!”
“Ah, alas, it takes divine inspiration, dedication, and honestly an innate, born talent. Perhaps you have it!” He smiled widely at her, his dark eyes glistening, “If you do, you’ll produce such works with no concerns!”
“I do hope so.”
“Of course you do.” He said. He turned away from her, and caught sight of TO and DH. His eyes lingered on their wings, and he stepped forward.
“Dare I ask, are those natural wings? I’ve not seen natural wings like that around here.”
“They are!” DH said, their voice higher than normal, “I’m Dee-”
“Dee.” Venturi smirked, “That must be short for something.”
DH stammered, their ears flicking down as they struggled to remember the name they had given themself.
“They’re Demileigh.” TO said, “They/them. They much prefer DH, and they’re such a big fan of your work that they forgot their own name.” At this, DH’s ears turned a deep blue.
“Ah, I see.” Venturi said. They held an elbow up to DH, “Regardless, Demileigh, it’s lovely to meet such an enthusiastic fan.” They looked to TO, “And yourself?”
“Tio. They/Them. I appreciate your work.” That much was true, but they couldn’t call themself a fan.”
“Excellent! So good to hear. Lovely to meet fans.”
“OH! We also know your assistant!” DH said quickly. “Lendulin! She showed us some of your work after we went to see Celesto for formalwear!”
Venturi's lips pressed together, his big black eyes narrowing, “Oh, she sent you here?”
“Oh, no!” DH said, oblivious to his sudden change in demeanour, “We came here on a date!” They looked to TO, beaming, “But she mentioned she works with you.”
“An assistant?” Mrs Anoitos hadn’t left, and had clearly been listening in, “Why Mr Venturi, you never told me you have an assistant.”
“Well, a man as busy as me, I need someone to do minor tasks for me. You know, sort through my emails, check my messages for me-”
Another avian person nearby who had been listening in suddenly turned around, “Wait, is it that legless girl?” They said as their beak clicked, “There was this one legless girl in a chair who came by my paint shop a few weeks ago to get inks and oils. I had to burn some dried herbs once she left to get the stench of the Outer Ring from my shop! At first, I wouldn’t sell to her since I don’t want to be involved in that crowd, but she said she was your assistant, and she had the funds. Still, I nearly called the authorities on her there and then.”
A few people were listening in now, and though, muttering to themselves. Venturi himself, who for only a second looked like he either wanted to run or hit someone, suddenly gave a big smile.
“Oh, that one.” He said, laughing, “Yes, yes, she calls herself my assistant. I have her run some errands for me-”
“-ha! Figuratively of course.” Another voice in the crowd said. A ripple of laughter ran through the area.
“-and she calls herself my assistant. She was so excited, so eager to do something for me, so I let her sort my mail, and get some paints for me from time to time.” He looked at the one who had spoken of her coming to his shop. “Please, continue to sell to her. She’s alright for a slith.”
Slith. That was an unfamiliar word that TO hadn’t heard yet. Their earpiece simply said it was slang for a legless person. Still, there was something about the word, just about the way it sounded that TO didn’t like.
“But Mr. Venturi, I’m sure you don’t need one of them as an assistant. I have a lovely niece, for example, who would love to work for you-”
“Ah, she was so insistent, so desperate to work for me. I just couldn’t turn her away. After all, if a slith actually wants to work, then who am I to turn them down?”
“I’d still have concerns.” The paint merchant said, “You know how the crime stats are. I’ll put her purchases under your account so you won’t have to worry about sending any funds that way. That’ll make things much simpler and safer for you!” He gave a wry smile, “If you had told me ahead of time, I’d have set that up for you right away.”
Though Mr. Venturi smiled, his hands balled into fists, “Yes, that will be most excellent.” He said, his words far stiffer than they had been before. He turned to DH, “Though I’m interested to know how you know her. What did you say you do again?”
“We’re visiting here.” TO said before DH could say anything, “We’re considering opening a business at some point.”
“Ah, very good.” He said. “A word of advice though; be careful who you acquaint yourself with, hmm?” he gave another smile, “Networking is half the job, and you’ll have trouble with that if you go about flaunting your friendship with sliths, yes?” He nodded, and turned back to Mrs Anoitos, “Ah, I nearly forgot, you said you were interested in a custom piece made-”
TO and DH watched him walk away from them, the crowd slowly flowing with him. DH stared after him in shock, as though they couldn't believe what just happened. They turned to TO, their ears low and their eyes wide.
“... did I offend him?” they asked.
“... I think-” TO said in synth speak, “That it might be as Pearla said; he might be an ass.”