"Revellous and frumious! But I'm not in costume. However..."
I jingle my set of keys.
"I am the man with the keys. And guess what this one opens? The costume warehouse in the basement for the touring opera companies that stay here."
Jayne ,'Jaynestown'
The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
"Revellous and frumious! But I'm not in costume. However..."
I jingle my set of keys.
"I am the man with the keys. And guess what this one opens? The costume warehouse in the basement for the touring opera companies that stay here."
My eyes light up with possibility of lavish costuming. "Let's go! We can awe the public. Or at least look damn cool."
"Parfait!"
I nod at the O'Halloran Brothers who are doormen this evening.
"I'm off to get swanky boys. No Bushmills until after midnight, right?"
"This way, darling..." and I take s.a. by the arm.
I latch on to Hec and we stroll the streets, admiring the costumes people wear, calling hellos to the people we recognize, and pointing out the various decorations that this part of Blood has become known for. The walk is short, which is good because the wind has taken a turn for the colder and I'm shivering even in my wool peacoat. "What look do you want to go for?" I ask Hec ask he turns the key to the Gothic-style warehouse (with the gargoyles noticebly missing).
We're at the backside of the Folly, and huddle down in the stairwell to get out of the wind.
"Hmmm, well I'm seeing you in a ballgown with hoop skirts. I'll probably go for one of the vintage tuxes. There are costumes down here which are vintage from the 19th century."
I shoot the bolt free and get us inside and hit the lights.
s.a. looks stunned. It's about a mile across, and it's all costumes, all neatly arranged by style and era.
"What's your pleasure, treasure?"
"Oh. Dear. Goddess." I think my heart stopped beating there for a moment. "How is it I've never been in here before? Need to hang out with you more often," I say, giving him a leery grin. The same leery grin I give him every day, because, well, he's worth a leer or five.
"Hoop skirts?" I say, trying not to wince. "Maybe something less... poofy? Like drapy, with cleavage enhancing something or others? Hell, I don't know what I'm talking about." I fling my arms open in supplication. "Dress me!"
"Heh. Let's go talk to Magda. She can do your makeup too if you like."
I lead SA by the hand to the center of all the rows of costumes. An art deco vanity sits in the middle of a circular space right there. I sit SA in front of the vanity and Magda appears in the mirror, supplanting SA's reflection.
"What a beauty!" Magda says. Except it's more like "Vhat a byooti" with her accent. Magda waves her bony fingers and just like that SA's hair sweeps into an updo with tendrils loose around her face. Magda snaps her fingers and SA is standing now in a blue silk gown, cinched at the waist, hoops out to there.
"Vhat you think?"
I'm off to get swanky boys.
(Hee. The danger of misplaced commas?)
(Also, the following is like an xpost of a bazillion, because I started thinking about ita & the flying dog, and something occurred to me....)
t edit num-ba slut!
I walk deliberately slowly, swinging my bag from one hand, and looking at the pattern of stars against the dark sky. If I refocus my eyes slightly, I can see the snow that will be falling in a few months. The dense and fluffy puffs of white spiral down and blanket the ground-- it'll be wet snow. Good for snowball fights. I smile into the darkness. It's a pleasing image.
I've closed my eyes and can almost sense the future snowflakes evaporating as they near the heat of my fiery skin, when I hear a wet rustling noise that's sudden and oppressive, intruding into the ghostly hypotheticalities of the neighbor boys yelling in the snow. I turn around and open my eyes, parting my lips slightly to reveal my very long, very yellow teeth.
I only wear this body once a year. I woke up this morning flickering and burning underneath my flame-resistant sheets. It took me half an hour with my eyes clenched shut, lying still and prone in the bed, to reign the fire back into my skin. I relearned how to control this body again eventually, and the morning progressed as usual. But soon after breakfast I found myself idling, itching again under the skin, running my hand over the smooth surface of the tabletop again and again and again without realizing it.
By mid-afternoon I was sitting wrapped in a blanket in the big chair in the living room, holding a novel loosely but staring at the pattern of sun against the far wall, not even concentrating enough to realize my fingers were leaving scorch marks against the white pages of the book. I pulled the blanket back around my shoulders. I was so warm. Listening to the sounds of early trick-or-treaters passing by outside. Their bright, clear, young voices. I'd put some candy and a pumpkin outside early that morning, when I was still able to focus my mind on one thing enough to pour mini-bars of chocolate into a bowl and set it on the porch.
The vision came like a shock. I'd almost forgotten-- intellectually, I'd still known how it went, but my body's viscera had excised those memories, and it wasn't welcoming of the reminder.
I seized the blanket and squeezed the cloth so hard that when I opened my palm a minute later it was ash. It was an... intense... collection of moments. But then the pain subsided, muscles I hadn't realized I'd been tensing relaxed, and my skin cooled infinitesimally. My vision shot forward and I was seeing through the wall, I was seeing the children in their plastic masks, I was seeing through them--
I threw the blanket off my shoulders and stood. My fingernails were lengthening, sharpening into claws. I clicked my teeth together and felt the oddly comforting sensation of space filled by the cool mouthful of teeth. I moved an experimental arm. Oh, god, I'd forgotten how fucking good this feels. The heat inside my chest leapt up and ran along my limb, tracing odd patterns in light across my skin, and then disappeared again. I only felt warmer.
The sun was setting.
Time for a walk.
Which had brought me here, now. I only have a few more hours until this body leaves me again, but I'm feeling no hurry. I'm moving oddly slowly, oddly languorously. I feel so good.
Whatever's behind that corner will regret it.
[Heading to bed. Mwah! Pick a costume SA. And feel free to take me out for the evening while you're at it.]