Post by Blake Sterling Jr. on Aug 6, 2016 3:37:28 GMT -8
The room was dark and smelled of moth balls and dust. The walls were lined with unlabeled wooden boxes, four rows high. Around forty boxes in all. Along the back wall was a three angled mirror for dressing. This was the costume closet.
It was a room Nanaue stumbled upon a week ago and now is searching through for just the right dress. “Whomever these were for must have been part of the lollipop guild.” Most of the clothing were male in design. Suits, some styled like a Marques or a leader of a marching band might have worn them. There were a few dresses all on the small side with what looks like bits of blackened skin covering them. Not that it bothered her. The clothes will be really ruined shortly.
After finding a handful of similar colored dresses the Nos headed back to her room. There’s a Toreador Ball and you gotta look on point. “Why did I never learn to use a sewing machine” she sighs to herself, fully knowing that any time her mother was going to teach her she would sneak out to go surfing. “I’ll have plenty of time to learn how when I’m married Mom” The Nos snorts to herself. “Yea, married to my job.”
In the back of her mind she can hear Spiders urbane voice smoothly saying “Nanaue, why don’t you have a dressed tailored for you? I know someone who would work wonders with your figure.” Nanaue shakes her head and saying out loud “Cuz Spider, this is high fashion Toreador shit, you got to make it to fake it or some shit like that.”
She looks over the small desk in her room, at all the tools she has available. Scissors, thread, a stuffed bat with needles sticking out of it and an orangeish bucket with all sorts of Woolworths sewing supplies from the 1950’s. It’s funny the crap you can find in houses when no one is home.
Picking up the scissors and having her long tentacle like fingers slide through the holes makes her giggle a little bit to herself “Eat your heart out Japan.” The Nos cuts off the arms off the dress she’s working on. She had tried to get her arm in the tiny hole but some things only stretch so far. “I know there’s a virgin joke there somewhere… why am I even talking to myself it’s not like anyone is going to read this in some kind of story posted online somewhere.”
After nearly a whole night of hard work and thread disasters (you try getting threat to behave when you’re always sticky)She holds up the dress and slips it on. Looking around her room for something reflective she remembers the mirror in the Costume room and heads there. Turning on the mostly burnt out ring of lights around the mirror she takes a look at herself in the mirror in all her glamorous glory.
“Well I look like shit. Fuck it good enough for the Toreador. Wonder how many of them ever won beauty pageant when they were alive. Even if my uncle was the head judged I owned that night. Ok done with the hard shit, time to get dressed and hunt down people to kill.”
The crazed Nos starts singing Mac the Knife on the way back to her room.
It was a room Nanaue stumbled upon a week ago and now is searching through for just the right dress. “Whomever these were for must have been part of the lollipop guild.” Most of the clothing were male in design. Suits, some styled like a Marques or a leader of a marching band might have worn them. There were a few dresses all on the small side with what looks like bits of blackened skin covering them. Not that it bothered her. The clothes will be really ruined shortly.
After finding a handful of similar colored dresses the Nos headed back to her room. There’s a Toreador Ball and you gotta look on point. “Why did I never learn to use a sewing machine” she sighs to herself, fully knowing that any time her mother was going to teach her she would sneak out to go surfing. “I’ll have plenty of time to learn how when I’m married Mom” The Nos snorts to herself. “Yea, married to my job.”
In the back of her mind she can hear Spiders urbane voice smoothly saying “Nanaue, why don’t you have a dressed tailored for you? I know someone who would work wonders with your figure.” Nanaue shakes her head and saying out loud “Cuz Spider, this is high fashion Toreador shit, you got to make it to fake it or some shit like that.”
She looks over the small desk in her room, at all the tools she has available. Scissors, thread, a stuffed bat with needles sticking out of it and an orangeish bucket with all sorts of Woolworths sewing supplies from the 1950’s. It’s funny the crap you can find in houses when no one is home.
Picking up the scissors and having her long tentacle like fingers slide through the holes makes her giggle a little bit to herself “Eat your heart out Japan.” The Nos cuts off the arms off the dress she’s working on. She had tried to get her arm in the tiny hole but some things only stretch so far. “I know there’s a virgin joke there somewhere… why am I even talking to myself it’s not like anyone is going to read this in some kind of story posted online somewhere.”
After nearly a whole night of hard work and thread disasters (you try getting threat to behave when you’re always sticky)She holds up the dress and slips it on. Looking around her room for something reflective she remembers the mirror in the Costume room and heads there. Turning on the mostly burnt out ring of lights around the mirror she takes a look at herself in the mirror in all her glamorous glory.
“Well I look like shit. Fuck it good enough for the Toreador. Wonder how many of them ever won beauty pageant when they were alive. Even if my uncle was the head judged I owned that night. Ok done with the hard shit, time to get dressed and hunt down people to kill.”
The crazed Nos starts singing Mac the Knife on the way back to her room.