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Post by Tirael on Nov 29, 2010 23:45:25 GMT -6
Brush sighed nervously. It wasn't something he was accustomed to.
Of course, everything was taking some getting accustomed to. He hadn't been home in a long while, and being in these familiar walls felt strange. In ways, Castle Floret hadn't changed; he still knew his home like the back of his paw. But if the castle was essentially unchanged, its denizens were definitely not. There were several new faces, and the old faces looked...well, older. His parents, of course, had been delighted to see him home again. His brother would be back any minute, so that reunion still awaited him.
This wasn't what concerned him. What concerned him was his guest. Naturally, she had been received warmly, but he'd sensed some discomfort on her part. If it was the apparent formality of the castle, he could sympathize; he had never cared for all the frills his royal blood afforded him. And though he had managed to prevent the impending dinner from snowballing into a full-blown welcome gala, he was still worried about Enon feeling smothered.
All these thoughts flitted through his mind as he strode down the various corridors of the castle's living area, approaching the comfortable guest room lent to Enon. The evening called for formal attire, and while he had such finery saved from before his departure, she would have to borrow clothing from a member of Southsward's court.
Reflecting on how odd it would be to see her dressed that way, he knocked carefully on her door. "Enon? Are you ready?"
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Nov 30, 2010 0:24:58 GMT -6
The trip had been normal, they had started out in the middle of fall and taken their time. After all, it wasn’t the life or death journey they had taken to Salamandastron the year before. The had arrived at the Castle only two days ago, and it had been a warm welcome. Still, there had been things she had trouble adjusting to.
No matter how she phrased her wishes to care for herself, or chased off the maid, someone was always there, fluffing her pillow, or watching her carefully to ‘see if there was anything miss Enon needed.’ It was driving the solitary squirrel practically bonkers. And now as she scrutinized herself in the mirror, she literally growled at her reflection.
The latest maid had brought in a frilly yellow dress, covered in ribbon and lace. The skirts were slashed with a light cream color, and were full and nearly brushed the floor. She tugged irritably at the high collar, the skirt even weighed down her tail so it dragged along the floor.
"Enon? Are you ready?"
“No. Ah am nae.” She snarled, flinging the door open. “Becos iff'n ye really expect me t'waur this, Brush…” She trailed off threatenly, her ears back and what fur was visible on end.
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Post by Tirael on Nov 30, 2010 1:07:26 GMT -6
“No. I am not.”
Taking an alarmed step backward as the door flew open, Brush did his best not to react to the frilly, yellow wedding cake that seemed to have engulfed Enon. This had been somewhat low on his list of concerns. After all, he'd assumed that somebeast would figure that she wasn't the dress-wearing type and go easy on her. But this--he wasn't sure whether to laugh or groan. Of course, he wouldn't do either to Enon's face. She seemed plenty upset as it was.
“Because if you really expect me to wear this, Brush…”
"Look, I-I know it's not your, um...usual clothing," he said, paws out defensively. "But it's just for tonight, and if we wait much longer, we're going to be late." Offering her a smile, he added, "Besides, you look nice." His ears twitched as he heard noises from downstairs; everyone was apparently gathering for dinner. Knowing how bad an impression it would make for Enon to be late at the first real event in their visit--particularly in her mood--he began to feel rather anxious.
Turning his attention back to Enon, he sighed and said, "They're starting."
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Nov 30, 2010 1:25:39 GMT -6
"Look, I-I know it's not your, um...usual clothing," he said, paws out defensively. "But it's just for tonight, and if we wait much longer, we're going to be late." Offering her a smile, he added, "Besides, you look nice."
“Ah dinnae ken wot planet yore livin’ on,” Enon stated firmly, her one eye focused on Brush, “but leukin’ like an overgrown lace ribbon is not on mah list o’ nice.”
Turning his attention back to Enon, he sighed and said, "They're starting."
“Not wi’out ye, they won’t.” Enon disappeared in her room, appearing slow moments later with one of her daggers. She headed down the hall, severely hampered by the dress she started halfway down the length of skirt and started cutting. Soon she had left rings of skirt and petticoat behind her and she moved faster, almost a trot, though she was cautious, still residually unsure about her depth perception.
She turned into a different wing, and found Brush’s room. “Wot do ye have Ah could wear?” She asked, finding the closet by looking for doors similar to those in her room. It was dumbfounding, how people could be so fancy as to need storage place for their clothes.
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Post by Tirael on Nov 30, 2010 20:14:27 GMT -6
“Not wi’out ye, they won’t.”
"You know what I mean," Brush replied, watching resignedly as Enon stalked out of sight. This was not going to end well; he could see that from a mile away. Apparently, his friend had no intention of making him believe otherwise, as she emerged with one of her daggers and set off in the wrong direction. He followed, and only managed to say, "Wait, don't--" before she began shredding her dress on the go. A voice in the back of his head whispered that he should pick up the pieces of yellow cloth and hide them, but if he did, Enon could get away, and that was the last thing he wanted.
“Wot do ye have Ah could wear?”
"What do I have?" he asked incredulously, watching her root through his closet. "Nothing! You've already sawed half that dress off, at least put it to good use!" Maybe then he could justify her mutilating what the others probably thought of as a perfectly beautiful gown. But if she just shredded it and threw it away, them being late would pale in comparison to the riot that could potentially result from this.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Dec 1, 2010 0:05:11 GMT -6
"What do I have?" he asked incredulously, watching her root through his closet.
She pulled out a tunic and vest. “Would this be fancy enough, do you think?” She turned to show him.
"Nothing! You've already sawed half that dress off, at least put it to good use!"
Enon sighed, approaching and turning her face so she ‘saw’ him with both eyes. “Brush, I know I’m uncouth and rude, dressing me up isn’t going to change who I am.” She fingered the ragged edge of the gown. “I’m… I’m sorry for losing my temper.” She looked away, pretending absorption in the closet. “Do you really wear them all?” She tried to fill the silence.
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Post by Tirael on Dec 2, 2010 0:44:01 GMT -6
“Brush, I know I’m uncouth and rude, dressing me up isn’t going to change who I am.” She fingered the ragged edge of the gown. “I’m… I’m sorry for losing my temper.”
"Yeah, me too," Brush replied quietly. Suddenly things had become incredibly uncomfortable; all he'd wanted was for her to make a good impression. He wanted his family and friends to like her--but for that to happen, they had to like each other first. "If I wanted anything different than you, I wouldn't have asked you to come," he murmured, hoping to ease her apparent self-loathing. The way she'd said 'who I am' sounded heart-breakingly ashamed.
“Do you really wear them all?”
Glancing at the closet, he responded, "All of them? I did my best to wear as few of them as possible." He didn't find fancy dress any more fun than Enon did, though he was more acquiescent to it. But it wasn't fair to assume she'd just deal with it, too. "If we can find you a dress that's more...this planet, do you think you could handle that? We can probably get away with being a little late." He'd done it more than once in his youth; doing it as an adult, he could at least legitimize it.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Dec 3, 2010 2:19:44 GMT -6
"If I wanted anything different than you, I wouldn't have asked you to come,"
She smiled at that, feeling reassured. This caring for another’s feelings was new to Enon. Feeling as if she needed another to… to validate her was practically revolutionary. Never before had she looked to another for approval on her personal life.
"All of them? I did my best to wear as few of them as possible." [...] "If we can find you a dress that's more...this planet, do you think you could handle that? We can probably get away with being a little late."
She tucked the contraption the tunic hung on back into the closet, returning to pick up his paw. “If you want me to wear a dress, I’ll wear it.” Enon shrugged uncomfortably in the heavy one she wore at the moment. “Er… a more sensible dress, though, yes.” She let go of his paw shyly, instead following as he left the room.
“It seems to matter a great deal here that I wear a dress.” She ventured after a few minutes. She’d wondered at that, what did it matter that she wore a tunic rather than a dress? Yet these royals seemed to put great stock in it. She watched Brush’s back. It mattered to his family, and so it mattered to him.
And if it mattered to Brush, she found that it mattered to her.
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Post by Tirael on Feb 27, 2011 12:29:11 GMT -6
“If you want me to wear a dress, I’ll wear it.” Enon shrugged uncomfortably in the heavy one she wore at the moment. “Er… a more sensible dress, though, yes.”
Nodding and releasing Enon's paw, Brush strode out of the bedroom, his mind at work. His mother and Enon were about the same size, and though some of her outfits strayed perilously close to the yellow nightmare still engulfing Enon, he was sure there would be something less psychotic. There had to be. He was pretty sure that she hadn't always roamed the castle looking like a living wedding cake. Walking into his parents' somewhat larger bedchamber, he found the closet and began rummaging.
“It seems to matter a great deal here that I wear a dress.”
"And that," Brush said, though somewhat muffled by all the cloth in front of him, "Is part of the reason I left. It can be a little much to deal with." As he finished speaking, he pulled out a dress that seemed a polar opposite to the frilly monster. It lacked poof and frill; dark green, with an embroidered maroon stripe down the front, it barely flared at the bottom. "Here. Does this one work for you?"
Please let it work for her...
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Feb 27, 2011 20:06:20 GMT -6
Nodding and releasing Enon's paw, Brush strode out of the bedroom, his mind at work. His mother and Enon were about the same size, and though some of her outfits strayed perilously close to the yellow nightmare still engulfing Enon, he was sure there would be something less psychotic. There had to be. He was pretty sure that she hadn't always roamed the castle looking like a living wedding cake. Walking into his parents' somewhat larger bedchamber, he found the closet and began rummaging.
Shyer now that her small (smallish...) fit of temper had cooled, she followed the royal squirrel, fingering the ragged edges of the gown she had destroyed. Would they get in trouble for that? She hoped not. Somebeast, somewhere, would have probably thrown a ball just to celebrate the thing's demise. She hoped.
"And that," Brush said, though somewhat muffled by all the cloth in front of him, "Is part of the reason I left. It can be a little much to deal with." As he finished speaking, he pulled out a dress that seemed a polar opposite to the frilly monster. It lacked poof and frill; dark green, with an embroidered maroon stripe down the front, it barely flared at the bottom. "Here. Does this one work for you?"
"It looks a lot better." Enon noted, her brogue barely noticeable. She took the contraption the dress hung from delicately from Brush's paw, heading behind the screen to put it on.
She struggled for a few moments with the old dress, which did not seem to want to release her, but soon enough she had it off. She slipped the green dress over her head, smoothing it subconciously before stepping out and facing Brush. "Better?" She asked.
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Post by Tirael on Feb 27, 2011 22:33:38 GMT -6
"It looks a lot better."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Brush allowed his friend to take the gown. Finally they were getting somewhere. Before long, he knew, a servant was going to come upstairs and ask why Master Brush and Miss Enon were late; he preferred to avoid that particular embarrassment. Spying an arrangement of roses in the corner, he picked out a white one and waited for Enon to finish changing.
"Better?"
Brush gazed at Enon in awe. She'd gone from looking ridiculous to...to... "Wow," he breathed. What else could he say? Clearing his throat nervously, he held out the rose. "You look incredible." After a moment or two, he decided they'd better leave before people started getting worried. "Shall we go?" he asked, offering an arm for Enon to hold. It surprised him how well they looked the part.
A few hallways and staircases later, the pair were in front of a door. On the other side was one of the castle's smaller dining rooms, as well as several members of his family--including the king and queen, his uncle and aunt. Turning to Enon, he asked, "Ready?" Whether he was asking her or himself, though, he couldn't tell.
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Post by Treble Tiderunner on Mar 8, 2011 19:41:35 GMT -6
Why was he looking at her like that? The ebony squirrel fidgeted, twisting the material of the skirt in her fist. Was it even worse than the other one? She hadn’t thought it looked that bad. But what did she know? She had zero experience with dresses…
"Wow," he breathed. What else could he say? Clearing his throat nervously, he held out the rose. "You look incredible."
She smiled shyly, one of her rare genuine smiles, her ears came forward from their hesitant position. She moved forward, not with the graceful walk of a lady of the court, but with her own grace, born from her active life. She walked with confidence, as if she still had both eyes. Enon took the offered arm, letting her friend lead her to the ballroom.
"Ready?"
“The battle was never won by lingering back.” She said lightly, resolutely refusing to be intimidated by this new experience. “Let’s go.”
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Post by Tirael on Mar 22, 2011 23:45:03 GMT -6
“The battle was never won by lingering back. Let’s go.”
Hoping that Enon's battle metaphor wouldn't be too appropriate, Brush collected himself and led her forward. As an attendant opened the door, the squirrel actually found himself wishing there were a battle going on; he'd be more in his element, then.
Instead, he and Enon faced a long table, at which sat a dozen or so members of Southsward's court. At one end, he noted the king and queen; next to them sat his parents. Across from his parents were three empty chairs, which could only be for him, Enon, and his brother. At least he's later than we are, he thought as several greetings met them. Pulling out Enon's chair before sitting himself, he returned the greetings in a similarly cordial manner.
After several polite inquiries as to whether he and Enon were 'well,' the food was brought out and the King stood to speak. "It's times like these that a good, meaningful toast is appropriate," he declared. "However, I happen to be terrible at making them up, so instead I'll be brief. Brush, we are overjoyed to have you home once again. It has been far too long. And Miss McKie," he said, turning to the black squirrel, "We are honored to have you grace us, and all of Southsward, with your presence. May both of you enjoy your time here, as well as all the times to come."
As the feasting began, the Queen turned to Enon. "Miss McKie, what have you thought of Southsward so far?" Brush glanced nervously at his companion, hoping she could manage small-talk.
[[Bleh.]]
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