01-26-2010, 10:41 PM
[html]
http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii73 ... nequin.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
878
lateness sucksorz sozzy
Naturally, he could not just take the other's word for it, since that was just not what a good tailor did. Sure he could have been satisfied with the silver wolf's word, but for all he knew, Rurik could only have felt that way in his current position and it was hardly a good judge of comfort in a pair of pants. So the other would simply have to bear with the redhead's demands and prodding hands. Wherever the material seemed to grow too tight from a glance, Strelein would pinch at the material so see just how tight it was. Most of the time, the synthetic pulled out in his grasp with ease and sprang back to its original shape and location quickly. The material had been a superbly lucky find and it was good stuff to use, he noted. Hopefully it would last a while for Rurik, but Strel did not know what the Russian did with his time. Nor would he ask, despite his insatiable curiosity. He bit his tongue as he completed his fifth circle around the larger male, always bent almost double. With a final - he hoped that his obsessive perfectionism on sewing would let him walk away from this project soon - run over the embroidered sierra evergreens and snowflakes on the back pockets, it was time to stop his work on the garment. Naturally, when the clothier finally rose, his spine complained briefly from being almost prostrate for so long.
The look of surprise on Strelein's face most likely gave away the feelings within. The alcohol had not yet found its way to Jacquez and it was entirely his fault. Somehow, something had always stopped him from going ahead and finding him head on. He did not even bother to call for him in a non-urgent way. This thing or another would always get his attention away from presenting the gift, calling him to do other activities the entire day before he remembered. If the chevalier saw the monarch during the course of the day, he would only recall the tribute too late to bestow it upon him. Of course during the night, he would mentally knock himself about for forgetting like some damned idiot. The only blessing in all this was that there was a bottle of prime alcohol waiting for a special occasion should it arise before the monarch would lay his hands on the warped bottle. That was only helped by the fact that the Cour man had not yet told the King of its existence and his intentions for the booze. Perhaps this would be a good time to crack the bottle open and celebrate with Rurik over the gain of a new pair of friends and a better friendship. Yes, that sounded good, but hopefully the redhead would not offend before such a thing could even be suggested later.
A quick look of guilt fluttered across his young features, face slightly hotter from the mild form of shame. Looking away from the silvery male briefly, Strelein gave himself a moment to compose himself. Lavender eyes rose back at Rurik, looking much as they had prior, like they always tended to look. "Ah... not exactly." His tenor tone had the slight mark of a young adult with something light on his conscience. "It's been busy, you see, I just haven't had a really good chance to hand it to him and prattle on like a good little courtier." Eyes changed a bit, giving Rurik a hesitant look, as though he were wondering what the older man would think. "He's not my man, if you're implying something. He is a leader that took me in; a little bit of devotion won't really kill me," he finished with a shrug, trying to make the conversation light and breezy.
Duty called and the redhead was ready to play the part of the tour guide. "We can go take a look at it, if you like. The majority of the territory has prime beaches and views. I'd say we're better than anyone else in that department." The smug look on his face hid the fact that he was only sure of his own pack's landscape and that every other packs' layouts and features were a great mystery to him. A hand rested on his hip as he subconcously brought up the other to his necklace, running fingers over the leaf shaped bead hanging down the front. "We can get to the Shattered Coast and the fishing village from here pretty fast if you're eager to see the coast now." His eyes were slightly glazed as he ran his mind's gaze over the mental map of the Cour des Miracles pack lands. Focusing back on the almost eight year old, Strel let his hands drop so that he could fumble with his bangle. "Later, I guess, I can take you to the Hotel or the Pirata Grotto if the tides good if the Arbres de la Falaise don't interest you much." He knew that he had not really given much of a description of any of the places and only Chien Hotel was self explanatory. But Strel was to guide Rurik to where he wanted to go, not he the redhead.
lateness sucksorz sozzy
Naturally, he could not just take the other's word for it, since that was just not what a good tailor did. Sure he could have been satisfied with the silver wolf's word, but for all he knew, Rurik could only have felt that way in his current position and it was hardly a good judge of comfort in a pair of pants. So the other would simply have to bear with the redhead's demands and prodding hands. Wherever the material seemed to grow too tight from a glance, Strelein would pinch at the material so see just how tight it was. Most of the time, the synthetic pulled out in his grasp with ease and sprang back to its original shape and location quickly. The material had been a superbly lucky find and it was good stuff to use, he noted. Hopefully it would last a while for Rurik, but Strel did not know what the Russian did with his time. Nor would he ask, despite his insatiable curiosity. He bit his tongue as he completed his fifth circle around the larger male, always bent almost double. With a final - he hoped that his obsessive perfectionism on sewing would let him walk away from this project soon - run over the embroidered sierra evergreens and snowflakes on the back pockets, it was time to stop his work on the garment. Naturally, when the clothier finally rose, his spine complained briefly from being almost prostrate for so long.
The look of surprise on Strelein's face most likely gave away the feelings within. The alcohol had not yet found its way to Jacquez and it was entirely his fault. Somehow, something had always stopped him from going ahead and finding him head on. He did not even bother to call for him in a non-urgent way. This thing or another would always get his attention away from presenting the gift, calling him to do other activities the entire day before he remembered. If the chevalier saw the monarch during the course of the day, he would only recall the tribute too late to bestow it upon him. Of course during the night, he would mentally knock himself about for forgetting like some damned idiot. The only blessing in all this was that there was a bottle of prime alcohol waiting for a special occasion should it arise before the monarch would lay his hands on the warped bottle. That was only helped by the fact that the Cour man had not yet told the King of its existence and his intentions for the booze. Perhaps this would be a good time to crack the bottle open and celebrate with Rurik over the gain of a new pair of friends and a better friendship. Yes, that sounded good, but hopefully the redhead would not offend before such a thing could even be suggested later.
A quick look of guilt fluttered across his young features, face slightly hotter from the mild form of shame. Looking away from the silvery male briefly, Strelein gave himself a moment to compose himself. Lavender eyes rose back at Rurik, looking much as they had prior, like they always tended to look. "Ah... not exactly." His tenor tone had the slight mark of a young adult with something light on his conscience. "It's been busy, you see, I just haven't had a really good chance to hand it to him and prattle on like a good little courtier." Eyes changed a bit, giving Rurik a hesitant look, as though he were wondering what the older man would think. "He's not my man, if you're implying something. He is a leader that took me in; a little bit of devotion won't really kill me," he finished with a shrug, trying to make the conversation light and breezy.
Duty called and the redhead was ready to play the part of the tour guide. "We can go take a look at it, if you like. The majority of the territory has prime beaches and views. I'd say we're better than anyone else in that department." The smug look on his face hid the fact that he was only sure of his own pack's landscape and that every other packs' layouts and features were a great mystery to him. A hand rested on his hip as he subconcously brought up the other to his necklace, running fingers over the leaf shaped bead hanging down the front. "We can get to the Shattered Coast and the fishing village from here pretty fast if you're eager to see the coast now." His eyes were slightly glazed as he ran his mind's gaze over the mental map of the Cour des Miracles pack lands. Focusing back on the almost eight year old, Strel let his hands drop so that he could fumble with his bangle. "Later, I guess, I can take you to the Hotel or the Pirata Grotto if the tides good if the Arbres de la Falaise don't interest you much." He knew that he had not really given much of a description of any of the places and only Chien Hotel was self explanatory. But Strel was to guide Rurik to where he wanted to go, not he the redhead.