Vox Populi

Orin Takekuro · 08-27-2010, 03:05 PM

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WC 500+

A grateful smile spanned her muzzle at Mars’s reaction to her new costume. She never knew wearing garments could garner such a response. “You think so? Thank you. I never really had the chance to play with clothing or fashion before. Maybe I’ll get to now.” She breathed a small, gleeful giggle and spun around to show the dress one more time.

Orin waited patiently, maintaining her dainty princess-like pose, while Mars rifled through the armor and picked out an old Roman replica. She did not lose her courtly posture for a single minute as he pieced together his costume and stripped down. The scars interested her, though. She remained silent as her eyes trailed over his form, making out several etchings within his multicolored coat. Some seemed to be purposeful markings while others may have been collected in a fight. The wheels were turning, curious as she was about the marks, and any number of fantastic origins began to brew in her imagination in the time it took him to suit up. The especially peculiar one, though, that she could not dream up a clear-cut fantasy about, was the word Mars that was etched into one side. Why would he have his own name on him? Was someone trying to be funny? Did he do it to himself? Maybe it had another spiritual meaning? Come to think of it, there was something different about this character. She had noticed it a couple times before, but brushed it off. Now she was piecing broken facts together.

Just as she was about to jam one puzzle piece where it didn’t fit and come up with some fantastical conclusion as to who or what Mars was, Mars turned and rushed back to her with a mischievous expression wrought on his face. Her eyes went wide for a moment before returning to their normal, flirty mast, her smile broadening as he took her hand and kissed it. When his eyes flicked up and he smiled, she giggled like a young girl (befitting, since she was) and the fingers of her other hand trailed to her face in a bashful gesture. She dipped in a graceful curtsey. “My prince, I knew you would come,” she was playing her part, though with Orin’s imagination and detachment from reality, it was never fully an act. There was a twinge of excitement pulsing through her, and the joy in her eyes was not faked. “You look dashing in that armor.”

Hand-in-hand with Mars, she sidestepped onto an open area of the floor that was surrounded by dusty mirrors and racks. Undoubtedly, this had once been the area where people could see the garments for themselves, and have the tailors take measurements for necessary alterations. Some of the mirrors were cracked, but most were in tact, reflecting a dull, dusty image of the Luperci pair. There was just enough room in the fitting area for a couple to spread out and make tight little circles. The hem of the dress cleared any debris out of her way as she moved into the center of the room. “Do you know how to dance?” An impish grin crossed her face. “I don’t, but how hard can it be?”

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