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I return with more Dispatch-related rambling:
Coupé knits in her free time. It’s a hobby she picked up behind bars as a way to quell the itch for poking things, clear her mind and keep herself busy. She’s not great at it, but she enjoys the challenge practice brings. Many a haphazardly-lined scarf she has made, all of which she gifts to Punch Up for him to wear during the winter, which he happily does—he’s never had the heart to tell her he can hardly feel the cold, but the sentiment warms him anyway.
Coop’s magnum-opus in the making is a buttoned sweater for Punch, tailored to his proportions. So far, the biggest issue is figuring out his wingspan from iron-sights alone (she could just ask, but think of the mystique she’d be risking) and redoing the same section of sleeve because the cuffs are uneven, or there’s a random pucker between rows. She’s biding her time for when Robert sends her to assist an elderly lady so she can glean some necessary intel (what the difference between a warp and weft knit is, or what all those BOR, CO, EON abbreviations are on about, seriously what are those—) from the sage wisdom of a soft-spoken cat lady with enough yarn spools to start an enterprise out of her living room.