ORIGIN

Full Version: Alas, I Am Naked

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Grishia Halfteeth was naked.

She'd been naked, for the most part, since she was hatched, and it didn't really bother her. But she'd seen clothes about, and she'd gotten to thinking, and come to two conclusions.

First, clothes looked pretty cool. A bit restrictive, maybe, but they could really enhance one's style. Her mom didn't wear clothes, exactly, but she did wear paint and bones and stuff and Grishia was pretty on-board with that aesthetic.

Second, though? Some clothes had pockets. The idea of pouches and bags was foreign to her but pockets? She'd seen pockets, and she wanted some. She had hands, so she could carry things, but there was a difference between clutching some pebbles between her paw-pads for a long walk back home, and just sticking them into her pockets to keep those same paw-hands free. There was also her staff, which she carried everywhere, and which basically meant that one hand was permanently occupied.

It'd taken her until now to bother actually following through on this, though. As it was she was poking around the palace, looking for the tailor she'd heard of. "Hello?" she called out, hesitant, but her eyes brightly hopeful. "Is there someone here named--Mimosa?"

(open to anyone who also would like to get some FASHION)

Worm was very naked. Perhaps more naked than most, thanks to the lack of fur. So, perhaps it was fate that led him to wander into Mimosa's shop shortly after the (also naked) Grishia. Unlike her, however, he had no fur to keep him insulated, nothing to keep the irritating and itchy parts of the outdoors off his skin.

He made himself known as he all but skittered for the door when Grishia called out, almost leaping out of his own skin in fright. He was still panting from said fright when he poked his way into the room proper. Eyeing the tall gembound, "you're not Mimosa." He murmured in a shaky voice. Mimosa had birds (and he now knew what birds were, and they weren't Grishia), and this one didn't.

Worm squinted, eyeing Grishia sceptically for a long moment. "Do you live here, too? I don't know you." He continued, though admittedly most of the palace staff he'd met were when they shooed him from sleeping on the flowerbeds. If they didn't want him napping there, why did they make them so comfy?

"I wanted Mimosa, people tell me she can make the clothes!" Worm continued with a sage nod, or as sage as a petrified cat could look.

Luna Last-name was... Well, half naked. She had not needed clothes for all four-ish years of her long life, satisfied with the thick and luxurious coat she'd been blessed with at birth. But a birthday suit wasn't fit for a bride, or a groom, or a twisted hybrid of the two.

They swept in with a little baggie slung around their chest, not wanting to risk whatever they commissioned on the long trip back to Scorpio. Luna swept into the palace to find a small queue of others, no doubt seeking the same thing. Or... Similar things.

Its company included a tall, intimidating, if drab gnoll-

And the most pathetically bald creature Luna had ever seen in its life.

"Goodness, a crowd! Are we all here to see the tailor?"

@Grishia @Worm CRASHES IN. SORRY FOR THE WAIT

Grishia blinked at Worm, and then grinned good-naturedly at him. Then became aware of how that might look, with all her teeth, and lifted a hand to wave, each finger individually tipping his way. Her big, round ears briefly flicked back, assuring in a more animal way that she meant no harm. "No, I'm not Mimosa. I think I'm here looking for them, too," she explained. "My name is Grishia. Grishia Halfteeth." It was said only a little awkwardly. Most others seemed to have no surname, but she'd sort of gotten over being the odd one out. Mostly.

"And no, I don't live here. I am here for-" and she fell silent, looking up at the sound of--ahh. Luna. Fluffy, loud, and seemingly friendly> Grishia responded in kind, with another grin and wave. "I imagine so. Grishia Halfteeth," she introduced for the second time, just as warmly.

She looked the other two over again, wondering what kind of clothing they had in mind. Then she blurted her own desire: "Do you think they can make pockets?"

A door slid open, and a long, well-kept white neck snaked out, with a serpentine head atop it. Long feathers and facial markings displayed a broad array of bright, happy colors, and black eyeliner dyed in had some fantastic wings going on. The tailor themselves blinked and then brightened, looking as happy as their hues, and their voice rose with enthusiasm and fascination both. "Did I hear my name-? Are you all here... for me?" Mimosa sounded flattered, overjoyed even. And as they drew back, gesturing into their tailor's office, they introduced themselves too. "If you are looking for 'the tailor,' that is! Mimosa! That is I. Please, come in! There's tea in the corner if you'd like! I have some cups... just a moment..."

They busied themselves slithering back into the room, plucking cups off of shelves with three of their four arms, setting them on a tray beside a steaming kettle and a half-drunk cup of their own.

The room was large enough for a pair of Valkhounds to stand around comfortably. Racks and rows of clothing, dyes in jars, and strange little nests covered the walls and numerous stands around the room, and a thick, plush white rug was currently a centerpiece on the marble floor.

A pair of tiny birds rose from the tailors' feathers, fluttering to the shelving nests, and Mimosa clapped their hands together. "Am I to take it from what I overheard just now that you all don't know each other? -This is a coincidence? How lovely--I rarely get visitors, and now I have three!?" They didn't sound overwhelmed--just excited!

A hand brushed a mop of loose, long feathers from their forehead, and they looked between all three. "Please, tell me--what brings you here? What is it you'd like created?"

The cat's eyes widened as Grishia grinned, almost forgetting the presence of the half-naked newcomer. Those weren't half teeth at all; this person had a serious naming issue and looked moments away from eating him, especially with her grabby fingers.

It was only when Luna spoke that Worm swung his head around to look at them. Six arms. Six?! Well, that was just greedy, first of all. Secondly, that was a lot more hands that this person could use to grab and kill him. Worm felt positively dizzy as apprehension washed over him; he was going to die for a sweater. Right here in this room.

At least Mimosa had come in and saved him from having to open his big mouth to actually say something to these gembounds, these toothy, handsy gembounds. He all but bolted for the tea set, sitting himself by a chosen cup; which rattled softly as the cat trembled. A soft 'cl-clink, clink, cli-clink' undertone as conversations happened.

"Sweater." Worm gasped very intelligently, as if he was trying to catch his breath. His voice cracked all the while; he cleared his throat before trying again. "Imp said you could make sweaters."

"Luna." They returned Grishia's greeting, waving a paw back. They let out an awed sigh at the thought of it (pockets). "With their reputation? Surely. We'll be receiving premium products today."

As if summoned by the mention of their quality work, the tailor in question swept in. So tall! So fluffy! So... Interestingly coloured! Luna wasn't sure where, exactly, they stood on rainbows. They felt very maximalist - but when had they ever opposed maximalism? Better than monotony, always.

"Mimosa. Yes, I'd love some tea." Luna's smile stretched from cheek to cheek, threatening to escape her face. She'd settled on the other side of the set, across from Worm (accidental, we swear!). She shot him a brief glance - no, he couldn't possibly appear more miserable than he was before. Surely she was seeing things.

"I am to be wed next cycle. I was told to wear something formal - though this shall be the first time I partake in this ritual. Ideally the last. No expectations here - surprise me!"

@Grishia
(note: it can be a suit, or a dress, or something inbetween. only request is that a bowtie be involved, because it'd be stupid cute on Luna.)

Grishia grinned, and waved good-naturedly. "Tea sounds lovely." She hadn't had time to respond to Luna before the Tailor came whooshing out, but she offered them a little nod and smile nevertheless, as if to say: yes, she hoped they were right, that these would be phenomenal clothes.

Well, not that Grishia really cared, as long as they were wearable.

"Wed?" she echoed in pleased surprise, briefly forgetting that she herself wanted clothing. She smiled warmly at Luna. "That means... bonded, yes? Romantically? Congratulations," she finished, because somehow it seemed the thing to say. She then looked to Mimosa, while sliding into the room and seeking a free seat. "I'm in no rush, but I'd like something with... pockets, pouches. Something durable I can use to carry things on myself."

Mimosa bustled happily around the room. Tea was poured (and three flavors offered: black, green and fruit teas) and they pulled out seats for all three, chairs that were suitably sized for each guest. Beaming smiles were offered to each, the one fired at Worm gently reassuring rather than a toothy grin. The tailor didn't get the extent of Worm's discomfort, but they seemed to read at least a little nervousness.

"Imp! Ahh, yes, he had a couple of things made here! A friend of yours?" Mimosa asked, beaming. "I can do a sweater. Soft, warm--hmm," and here they used one of those greedy four arms to lift fingers to tap their lips in thought. "Do you have a color preference?" They drew a skein of undyed, gray-white yarn from a shelf, offering it out for Worm to touch. It was soft, not scratchy, as though treated to lose the roughness that the wool (if it had been wool) had when in its natural form.

Of course, the mention of a wedding had them gushing with various congratulations. "That's so lovely! Are you having it done at the Union Pillars? Momma Bolormaa is so kind, is she not!? Ahh, there are many traditional sets of clothing for such an occasion!" They spent a moment pulling out a couple of examples of suits. One was more of a business suit, but in creamy white, and the other was an odd tuxedo in Chaos colors: rippling Oily purple, iridescent with brilliant greens. Then the dresses, one jet black and fantastically lacy, the other almost silken white. "I could mix and match, of course, but is there anything here that catches your eye?"

Then they turned to Grishia, setting her tea before her and humming. "Well, if you prefer pantaloons with trouser legs we have those, or something more like a robe?" And again options were demonstrated: loose khaki pants, a bathrobe, and a leather wrap with pockets. "This material is sterner stuff... but the shape, do you have a preference?"

Wed? He didn't know what that meant, at least not until Grishia had inadvertently answered his question. Worm tried not to pull a face at Luna, the disgruntled, childish disgust of the idea of kissing or holding hands. Why would you bind yourself to a life of that? Ew. Ew. Ew! While Worm had none of this aloud, his nose scrunched up, and his tongue poked out in the universal sign of 'ick'.

"I like green. Imp is nice." Worm mutters, absent-mindedly.

As Mimosa had shown him the wool and turned to address the others, an odd, tingly, excited feeling rose from his chest. Especially as he eyed the end of the wool. He looked up once to make sure the others' attention was on each other before one paw came up to bat the end of the strand playfully. Ah, oh! Goodness! It was delightful!

While no longer the size of a kitten, a very kitten-like burst briefly overtook Worm. Unable to help himself, he bat the wool strand a little more. First, not moving much, but a single paw, eventually wound up in a full pounce with blown-out pupils. Rattling his teacup even more. Hee hee! Hoo hoo! What a wonderful material!

@Luna (thoughts and feelings)

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