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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/EighthMovement|Eighth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == Dressing the Queen of War ==
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Giggles issue from Ryshassa's room in the Palace of Timeless Winter, the door just a crack ajar. The small crisis that triggered Fiona's memories of Festival is long over, and the two Twilights are currently fawning over a beleaguered Child of Wyld Days, who seems to have grudgingly accepted her role of dress-up doll.
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| − | The dress of the moment is mauve with cream ribbons up the skirt, and several frothy layers of petticoats beneath to give it volume. Definitely a girl's dress more than a woman's, the neckline of the velvety, pearl-edged bodice is modestly high, but for a tear-drop shaped cutout filled with lace just beneath the throat. The long, delicate sleeves are cinched with cream ribbons at the elbows, after which they fan open into a bell shape up to the wrist.
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| − | Ryshassa is kneeled to one side of the fae, adjusting the skirt this way and that (no doubt with some protesting involved) as Days stands with Fiona in front of the mirror. "So... what do you think?" she asks, trying to stifle another giggle while fully expecting Days to think it's horrible...
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Mmmrrrrrrrr."
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| − | On one hand, it's a rather well-made dress, actually fits well, and would probably be functional enough for her to wear at some mortal function like a ball or fancy dress dinner. But for someone used to less confining clothes (and sometimes no clothes at all), the entire thing feels off. Still, her groan is the most protest she puts up outside of a few fussy little shrugs and repositionings as Ryshassa moves things.
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| − | "It is... alright." She says 'alright' like priests lovingly say 'lost soul' and drunks lovingly say 'sober'. But she's at least not fretting or fidgeting this time. It'll take something far more girly to provoke that.
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' The twin tips of the Pale Angel's fake wing cloak rustle quietly along the corridor's floor behind her feet. The cloak's moving fabric changes color as light falls to it from different angles, causing waves of crimson to continuously wash across an otherwise white background. Her head is framed by a flaring collar of white fur, a shade that matches that of her hair so perfectly that is is difficult to know where the Pale Angel ends and the cloak begins.
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| − | ''Uh? ''
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| − | A giggle spilling from a half-open door makes Vorpal slow down her steps. Feeling idly curious, she moves quietly to the portal and takes a quick peek through the crack.
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| − | The sight makes her heart stop for several moments.
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| − | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona jumps up from her place, walking closer to Days and smoothing her clothes, petting her...
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| − | "''Alright? '' Mon-key, you are ''pretty! '' Isn't she, Ryshy, isn't she?" She asks, also giggling, touching and smoothing Days, looking her from all angles, like their little doll. So ''cute! '' And somehow, the awkwardness just made her ''cuter! '' "Yes, yes, you look lo..."
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| − | She stops, then, freezing.
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| − | Looking at the Pale Angel at the door...
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| − | "Li.. Lilith, is it? Is.. is anything wrong?"
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa jumps to her feet, though the blissfulness of ''cloooothes~!'' somewhat dampens her surprise at Fiona's words. "Lady Lilith? Where... oh..." She sees the shape of Vorpal through the slowly widening crack in the door, and hopes her voice doesn't crack as well when she says, "Please, do come in."
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| − | ''Could something be wrong? Perhaps we disturbed her... '' It doesn't strike her in the slightest that the Pale Angel might be interested in the clothes, too. Because there is a pile of lovely dresses sitting on her bed, and she and Fiona have been going though trying them on -- and trying them on Days -- like they'd just hit upon a stash of Heavenly chocolate.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey. pauses.
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| − | Monkey glances over.
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| − | Monkey squeaks, and squeaks loudly in a combination of mild fright, shock, and sheer embarrasment.
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| − | ''... I'll never live this down. ''
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' ''Eep! ''
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| − | Vorpal's face flushes bright red then and there. Instinctively she takes a defensive measure and steps to the side, out of the sight of people in the room. There, in the relative safety of the corridor, she hunches her shoulders, squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth.
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| − | ''...I'll never live this down. ''
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| − | ''No, wait. ''
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| − | It is only then that the Pale Angel realizes that she had made the scene only worse. Quickly she moves back before the doorway, then makes a show of frowning and glancing down the hallway before entering the room.
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| − | As she pushes through the door, she hopes dearly that the blush had already drained from her face. "Oh, nothing. I was just wondering where all these sounds were coming from."
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| − | She peers around the room, her gaze pausing on the mound of cuteness clothesified on the bed, before turning to Child. "Well, well", she smiles and bends down for a better look.
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa goes as round-eyed as her almond-shaped eyes would go, when Vorpal first ducks out -- looking ''embarrassed'', if her eyes weren't fooling her. She didn't dare question the blush though, concentrating on rearranging her expression into something more... serene.
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| − | It was hard to keep so solemn, though. Days looked so ''adorable! ''
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| − | "Oh... Well, we were just sifting through some clothing I found in one of the empty rooms in the Palace. Days is generously allowing us to model them on her."
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| − | Despite her instinct to be respectful, the corner of her mouth trembles with stifled humor... this was just the strangest string of coincidental meetings yet.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "As you can see, I am a very plaint model in my present state of mind, Pale Angel."
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| − | Monkey looks like she doesn't know whether to run, scream, cower, blush until she bleeds or just fidget in place, so she does nothing at all, quietly accepting her fate and the ensuing jokes that she'll likely have to endure once she's whole again. "Ryshassa has a surprisingly large number of outfits for someone my size."
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| − | She pauses for effect. "A '''surprisingly''' large number."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal raises an eyebrow at this. As matter-of-fact as she would like to make the gesture, however, she has to tense her jaw for a moment when she lays her eyes on Child once again. The impulse to grin like an idiot swells within her heart and gains volume with every passing second. Ribbons! Pearls! Petticoats! The pouty little creature underneath!
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| − | It grows and swells within her like a tidal wave, until she wants to scream. Like so:
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| − | ''Eek. ''
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| − | ''Eeeek! ''
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| − | '''''Eeeeeeeek! '''''
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| − | It takes a long moment for her to unlock her throat and the vocal chords, but after a while she manages to get out a voice that might not sound all that strained to the ears of the others: "Maybe she loves children?"
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Days' last comment brings on something of a coughing fit from the healer, who finds herself briefly paralyzed by a conundrum: say nothing, and let them speculate? Or try to explain and risk looking... guilty about it.
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| − | But she blurts a few words anyway."W-well -- they're just pretty! I... collect them." Ryshassa's nod looks more like she's trying to convince herself.
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| − | "Or, or what Lilith said, that works just as well!"
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| − | ''Too eager, that time. ''
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| − | ''...oh well. ''
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "... well, technically, according to Creation's time, I am a child..."
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| − | Monkey looks herself over again, and finally sighs as she shakes her head. Her tail is just barely visible along the edge of the expansive outfit, dancing about and looking like a curious kitten peeking from under an overhanging blanket. Days herself is far less enthusiastic, although she's remaining calm. "Did you have anything else you wanted to try, Ryshassa?"
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| − | ''The sooner we're done, the better. So... so... girly. ''
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| − | '''Fiona: ''' "She is so nice... and she has great taste!" The Twilight says, almost ''jumping'' around the Monkey, watching... calmer on Lilith's presence now. After all, Alexander always told her Lilith was so nice and loving underneath the ice... but it was hard, really, not to be afraid. "She is so... oh! And, and... we might! But..."
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| − | She stopped then, looking at Ryshassa, a sudden thought going through her eyes...<br>
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| − | ... and then looking at the Pale Angel, tentatively...<br>
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| − | "W.. would you like to try something, Lilith? I kn... I know it might not be your type, but..."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "There's always more," Ryshassa says, trying to laugh herself out of any more discomfort. She is, in fact, still wearing the dress she'd originall chosen. A pretty, puff-sleeved lavender blouse with a black cotton jumper-like frock over it, all lined with violet velvet. The skirt falls just above knee length. Not too short. At least, she didn't think so... was it...?
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| − | The healer tugs on the skirt. ''Not even half as short as... some of the others... '' She wonders what Alexsei would think, if others found out what she wears for him in private.
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| − | "But perhaps we've tormented you enough for now, Days... I'm sorry," she says, earnestly. "You've been a great sport and I appreciate that."
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| − | ''...would Lilith even fit in these dresses? That... chest... '' Not that Ryshassa is looking at it, that would be just ''terribly'' improper!
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal's eyes harden without a pause. Not that she specifically attempts to become more frightening to behold, but much like the side-step only a moment ago, this is another automatic defense of hers.
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| − | "I'm sorry, Fiona?" she begins and picks Days up by the waist. Straightening up, the Ghost-Blooded turns the Fair One around in her hands so that they are both facing the Solars. She gives them a calm, slanted smile and asks: "Do you truly think I would look good in a dress like this?"
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| − | Even as she speaks, her hands inconspiciously begin to squeeze Days, pressing the little Raksha tightly against the Pale Angel's chest. It is not painful, but... it sure is a ''tight'' hug for something that does its very best to not even look like a hug.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' The sudden shift in Vorpal's countenance does make Days tense, and she waits patiently for her to calm or rage or panic or do something, '''anything''' other than just wear that hard-eyed look. And then she feels two hands on her waist.
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| − | She can't speak, can't think, can't react as she lets out this tiny, helpless little cross between a hoot and a squeak, surprisingly light... although that wouldn't matter to a warmain of an Exalt. So, the Child is lifted, turned with ease and not-at-all-hugged.
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| − | She knows it's a hug, seeing as she's in the Pale One's grip and has a pair of unignorably large breasts pushing into her back quite firmly. The hug has her attention more, and Days pauses totally, in thought and action. She doesn't even breathe for a few seconds. Finally, she simply wills her bowstring-taut body to relax, drains the look of panic from her face, and leaves herself at the mercy of an Abyssal.
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| − | Again. Sort of.
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| − | ''... never living this down. ''
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa's gaze is... skeptical, as she watches Vorpal take Days up in her arms. It takes her some time to deduce that it isn't an attack. It looks almost like... someone forcibly bearhugging a doll, particularly as Days relaxes herself and sort of... dangles there... suspended between arms and breasts.
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| − | The corner of her lips twitches again. ''Oh no. I better not laugh... not at Lilith... '' Desperate for another focus, she glances to Fiona. Wondering what she thinks of it...
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| − | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona, on the other hand, is looking at those... grand... moons. If Ryshassa's figure had been enough to make the little Twilight look down her collar with a pout, the Pale Angel's was enough to make her wish to ''disappear! '' To make her feel less figured than a baby girl! To make her feel so... so...
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| − | And thus, she almost misses the question, taking a moment to reply as her mind seem to slowly proccess it, as if munching slowly on the information before digesting it... and making her notice how ''cutely'' the Pale Angel was holding Days only a moment too late! A blush tinged her cheeks, as she nodded... "Yes! I mean... yes... I do think you would look... ''great! '' Me, Ryshassa, we, um, have plenty of dresses that might fit you!"
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| − | ''And make me '''green''' with envy. ''
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Now it is Vorpal's turn to take a short moment to readjust herself to the situation. That... wasn't what was supposed to happen. She had thought a little hint could made them retreat and rescue her from the awkward situation, but now it seems it had only made her fall deeper into the trouble.
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| − | Without thinking, she keeps on squeezing the little Raksha for another few moments, but then she realizes that the other two are ''staring'' at them...
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| − | "Well", she shrugs and lowers the Child down onto the floor carefully ''yet with utter nonchalance''. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a look."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa shoots Fiona a bit of a skeptical look when Vorpal's back is turned, but otherwise, shapes her expression into something carefully calm as she moves over to the bed full of dresses.
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| − | The majority of them seem to be made for younger women. On Fiona and the slender, petite Ryshassa they are a good fit, though a touch towards scandalous on the older Twilight. The primary reason for that being skirt length -- many of them don't fall below the knee, and flare outward for a very girlish style.
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| − | Among the first Vorpal finds in the pile are a deep green off-the-shoulder dress, with a wide, pintucked skirt and vine-and-rosebud bodice detail in mint green and silvery white. The bodice is fastened up the front with silvery buttons, while the skirt splits open in the center to reveal silver-white petticoats underneath, covering the thighs and little more.
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| − | Another is primarily a pale, icy blue embroidered with a subtle pattern of white snowflakes. The sleeves are short and rounded, the corset waist pulled snug with dark blue ribbon, the skirt perhaps a touch above knee length. Dark blue lace lines the neckline, sleeve openings and skirt hem, while the area covering the breasts is entirely white, hugged by the waistline from below.
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| − | Still another is a solid black, with a square neckline and long, fitted sleeves, the entire length of the bodice laced up the front with black ribbon. Below the waist the skirt is made of multiple layers: one flaring hardly past thigh length, the second sloping to about mid-thigh length, the bottom layer slim and fitted all the way to knee length. A collar seems to match with it, a black band with white lace edging it.
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal frowns as she goes over the dresses one by one, handling each with surprising expertise for a fierce General of the North. She concentrates on the task with her best effort, trying hard not to be so acutely aware of the three pairs of eyes that are no doubt fastened on her at all times.
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| − | ''#1: Deep green. ''
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| − | She holds it aloft for a second or two. It reminds her of the dress that had clung so alluringly to the Dark Angel's body in that victory ball back in Boil.
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| − | ''No, '' she decides and puts it away.
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| − | ''#2: Icy blue. ''
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| − | Now there's something fitting for a Queen of Winter. She cannot help but to reflect on the coincidence of coming across such a dress while there is a copy of the Queen's own mantle draped across her shoulders.
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| − | ''Alex might like that. '' She hesitates a moment longer, but puts the dress away.
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| − | ''#3: Solid black. ''
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| − | Well, well, well. Black and white, the Pale Angel's signature colors. Truth be told, she wouldn't find it difficult to imagine herself wearing this one... no, ''not at all... ''
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| − | She tries not to blush at the thought. Her hand trembles and she places the dress quickly aside.
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| − | Straightening her back, the Pale Angel places her hands onto her hips and lets out a little sigh. "So?" she asks with a carefully deadpan face, "What are your opinions? What would suit me?"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Blue."
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| − | Trying not to look, seem and sound '''too''' doll-like, the diminuitive and still-spooked Monkey looks to the blue dress, then resumes looking like she'd just been caught midway in a session of self-satisfaction.
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| − | By an entire city. (Of course, this was assuming she would care, which she usually didn't. Stilll...)
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| − | "Sometimes.... sometimes it is best to go with what people will not expect. Play with assumptions. Tease people's impressions of you." ''Act like a faerie'', Days almost adds, but thinks against it.
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa finds herself secretly hoping no one points at ''her'' to decide. But Days speaks first, relieving her of that burden. Is the Monkey already becoming more bold?
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| − | ''Fae are so... unpredictable. ''
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| − | "Black does always suit you, lady Lilith," Ryshassa says carefully, "but I have to agree with Days -- if you were in a mood to draw attention to yourself, at least. The blue is not a usual color for you, I think. But it would give a favorable impression, I assure you."
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| − | ''Oh, I hope she does not hold me too strictly to that promise! '' But to her eyes it would certainly be so, and her eyes rarely fooled her when it came to such things.
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| − | "On the other hand, if you wanted to try any of the others as well, you are free to!"
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| − | '''Fiona: '''Fiona tips her head to the side... watching... thinking...
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| − | "The Blue One!" She says, with a sure nod! "Or Black... Blue is more like you are now...."
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal closes her eyes for a few seconds, her heart sinking.
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| − | ''Arrrrrgggh... ''
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| − | She reopens her eyes and turns to look at the blue dress for a while.
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| − | ''You are doing this purposefully, aren't you? ''
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| − | "This looks favorable on me?" she asks with that casual half-smile, pressing the dress against herself and turnings to face the others. "Are you sure, Ryshassa?"
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' The healer blinks -- seeing something of a challenge in Vorpal's voice. She straightens up and says, with a nod, "Yes. I am. That one or the black -- which would also look lovely on you. But I admit. I am curious to see you in blue, not for any desire to put you on the spot, but simply because..."
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| − | ''How to say this? ''
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| − | "...Well, it is a matter of aesthetics. It would be different... and with that difference, show a facet of your beauty otherwise unforseen." That sounded terribly flowery. But it got the point across.
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| − | Ryshassa can't help but steel herself a bit, though, in the case of an unfavorable response!
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Do not be afraid to... surprise people."
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| − | Days can only offer than much. "Besides... you're still a woman, and a woman deserves to look her best, yes?"
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| − | Monkey also steels herself some, surprised by her own resurging boldness, as well as her own returning fear at having potentially irritated someone so mighty and influential.
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| − | '''Fiona: ''' "You ''are'' learning!" Fiona says with a sweet smile at Days' remark... before looking up at the Pale Angel again. The dress in front of her obscured part of her body, but having to picture her in it didn't help... on one hand, there was that. In another she ''would'' look lovely, and Fiona wanted to help her to look so much... "... yes, we are sure!" She says, even though the question wasn't for her. She let Ryshassa explain the details.
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' Vorpal listens to the other women's replies with a bit sceptical mien on her face. Days' urgings, however, she does not quiet expect, and she bends her waist to take a closer look at the Fair One, the dress hanging like a banner between them.
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| − | "Will you help me to put it on?" she asks from the little one, with the sort of overcasual tone of voice you can hear from people who want others to know they are about to do something very silly.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: '''Another meep, soft and short, followed by Monkey looks up at the Pale Angel with a look that seems a mix or awe, fright, concern and understanding. Finally, she licks her lips and nods, quietly. "If you wish." She herself sounds like she's not sure whether the entire ordeal will be a blessing or the first, long step into an embarassng disaster of an afternoon. But nonetheless she bravely nods, as if having just convinced herself completely.
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa can only hope Vorpal ''will'' like it. She sits atop the bed, keeping her eyes carefully averted, folding the unclaimed dresses to save them... for special occasions! In case other people would like to play dress-up! (Not for herself. And certainly not the one she is wearing now! It is entirely too short. And... bustline-enhancing.)
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| − | At least the Pale Angel ''seems'' like she is being a good sport about it.
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| − | '''Vorpal: ''' "You help two me as well", the Pale Angel adds, unclasping her heavy cloak and swinging it from her shoulders. "It looks to me that you wish to have a little fun, too."
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| − | After wrapping the cloak and depositing it onto a chair safely out of the way, she sits down next to Ryshassa in order to pull off the boots. "Give me your best", she says, glancing first at Ryshassa and then at Fiona. "I'll show you how a lady from Iranor wears a dress."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Wh... oh! Well... certainly. If you like."
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| − | ''How strange. Two Twilights and a fae as your attendants. '' But Ryshassa is not as perturbed as her demeanor may suggest. Nervous, yes, because she found the Pale Angel terribly difficult to read or predict when it came to her moods. But this was something she knew well, to help a lady or gentleman dress, or undress. She had served in such ways -- been enslaved, as handmaiden, and more -- before she was a healer.
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| − | There was much shame in that, that she carries with her to this day. She had served out of necessity more than willfullness. But her years of servitude had also instilled in her a distinctive eye for beauty, for color and for form. And a familiarity with bodies, clothed or not, that aided her in the medical profession as well as... the pleasuring one, when that still mattered.
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| − | She awaits patiently until the Pale Angel has shed all but her underclothes, making no outward comment or reaction about them. Even without the boots she is a tall and formidably proportioned woman; Ryshassa can see that the fit will be on the snug side, though not overly so. Directing Days and Fiona to hold up either shoulder of the short-sleeved dress, she deftly unfastens the buttons running up the back side, and gestures for Vorpal to step into the dress.
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| − | The sleeves are easy enough to fit into, and could be adjusted after the fact. Now the more tricky part -- the buttons are constructed so that they run up an inside seam, so that to the naked eye one can only see the seam itself, not the fasteners. Ryshassa works with the buttons slowly, taking care that her fingers do not brush Vorpal's skin, up from the base of the spine to the base of the neck. She pulls the cloth snug around the Abyssal's ample curves, stopping whenever she feels a sign of resistance, adjusting a fold here and there, smoothing the cloth straighter as she goes.
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| − | "Make sure the chest fits properly, please," she asks of her helpers, as she works. A delicate area, that.
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| − | Ryshassa gives the front side a critical look after the last button is in place. The dress is made to cup the bust, not constrict it. Properly fitted, the high waistline and the parts of the sleeves that hug the shoulder are more than sufficient support. "Take a deep breath," she instructs, kneeling before the Pale Angel, to take hold of the corset laces. "But not too deep. Just enough that you hold shoulders high and straight... like so..." It is finished quickly, as Ryshassa pulls firmly at the laces and ties them, narrowing the waistline just enough to accentuate Vorpal's curves without suffocation.
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| − | "And there." She stands, stepping aside... showing the Pale Angel to the mirror. The pale blue dress hugs her like a glove, but for the subtly rounded sleeeves and the flare of the skirt below the corset waist. The dark blue accents prevent the gown from looking ''too'' pale, on her already white skin. The hem is, admittedly, on the short side, but its fullness makes up for any lack of length. Not something to wear on a battlefield, certainly, but a pretty dress nonetheless.
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| − | ----
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/EighthMovement|Eighth Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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