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Rct. Bobbin Socks (BW)

By SunsetteSkye
4 Favourites
Character  Bobbin SocksLocation  The Sundered Marches
Got this thing all sewed up!

Bobbin Socks was left on the doorstep of the Glorinton Tailor's Guild. That was very definitely the only thing the Glorinton Tailor's Guild, or any other Tailor's Guild for that matter, possibly engaged in. His name was proof. Absolute proof.

Sure, there were suggestions from the local watch that the tailors may have engaged in other activities, that clothiers didn't usually accept customers at half-past midnight. But when you have a wardrobe emergency, it can't wait for the next day; important women need to have their suits and uniforms, and his brothers worked hard.

And sure, he heard strange moans from the rooms next door, but Doyle was known to have moaning and sweating fits all the time. The other boys sent Bobbin in there to check on things when it was really bad, play a little music for Doyle. It seemed to make him feel better.

And there's the fact that Bobbin actually sews. He's good at sewing! An industrious worker, not a prodigy but a prodigious producer. While he's illiterate, he's a damn good finger with a needle.

When Marquess Pemsley announced that the Imperial Navy would be occupying Glorinton to keep the peace, Bobbin and his brothers were largely unconcerned; the goings-on of rich nobles and their power struggles really didn't matter to tailors and weavers. Besides, soldiers could spend coin and disrobe as well as anyone else. Bobbin took to repairing their uniforms without a hitch, certainly. But... sometimes the soldiers spent the night. Sometimes, those soldiers would talk in their sleep. Sometimes, those talking soldiers would talk about things they shouldn't. A tailor would hear things they shouldn't.

Sometimes a tailor would go missing.

A boy might find a new line of work, Bobbin knew, and occasionally he might be rude enough not to tell his brothers about it. But five gone in a month without a word? That was evidence, plain as day, that something was quite wrong. That was when Bobbin signed up with the rebels, becoming a secret courier for them. It really didn't change his life much. No one asked him to slit any throats (would you, with that face?) or spy on anyone (like that kid would even be able to lie). He just... carried letters sometimes, and acted normal so no one asked him questions he'd want to not lie about. Which they didn't, because seriously, how could you even dare to suspect someone that sweet-cheeked?! Even the animals and monsters on the roads between towns didn't bother him. Why would they? It was an arrangement that worked surprisingly well. 

At least, up until the night he was asked to carry a letter to Midbury Manor. It was pure chance, really. Too late for him to go back home that night, so they gave him a bed in the East Wing, same room that Knickers was sleeping in. He doesn't really remember what happened after that, but Knickers knew he couldn't go back to Glorinton safely. Not when they didn't know what any of that was. So he brought the kid along with him down to Lanva, and for lack of anything better to do, Bobbin decided to join the Revolutionaries there. 

He insisted he wanted to be a soldier and refused to do courier work again -- a choice that baffled the recruiter (she couldn't possibly fathom giving this boy a musket). The faster the war was over, the faster he could go back to looking for his brothers -- not to mention checking for the missing ones. After some internal debate, the recruiters decided they could not give him a gun, but they could train him as a fifer. After being told this was definitely helpful to the war effort, he agreed.

Bobbin's going to be the best gosh darn fifer in the whole revolution, just you wait and see!

wildersurge did all of the amazing lineart on this picture! A colored version is forthcoming, with an additional storyette.
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