Adelaide commissions a dress

:Ѻ: Adelaide had a late morning the day previous, and now that she'd managed to get some rest she was in far better emotional capacity than she had been before she'd taken rest. Having not gotten back to the Estate until well past dusk, the vespertine hadn't spared a thought about that day's events locked up in a dark castle room before slipping out of her ruined dress and resting peacefully for a few hours. Rising at midnight, she took to her boudoir to collect herself for the short evening. Her hair still smelled like wet dog, and she internally lamented the lingering odor as she ran oiled fingers through it to mask the scent with amber and balsam. Her features were icy, cheeks sallow from having not fed. She'd remedy that soon enough. Thin digits trailed along whispers of semi-sheer frocks and lace applique until she settled on something a bit different altogether. If the night proved uneventful, perhaps she'd give herself a stretch somewhere to test the strength of old dancing muscles. She selected a layer of clothes that she could wear beneath a day-dress. A light weight pair of leggings and a fitted, semi-soft corset which plunged in the from and scooped low in the back so that it wouldn't be detected beneath the dress. In her youth, she'd needed hard shoes to get en pointe, but now her bones and muscles were far more reslilient and required less assistance. She'd simply go barefoot if she managed to make her way to a hall for dancing. The prim vampire selected an airy dress, made of lightweight violet gauze to wear as a shift over her practice clothes. It dove down the length of her chest, exposing the gentle slope of her chest, where a swath of lucent ivory flesh complimented the plum-colored tog. Her hair was coiled and piled into a lush bun on top of her head, both to contain the scent of dog and also to keep out of her face. Lissome frame danced beneath the diaphanous material as she went merrily into the cold autumn night. Around her, the trees sighed in the wind and leaves soughed. She stepped quietly on leather soles, frame loosely draped in a jacket clearly meant for aesthetic and not warmth. A large scarf hid her neck and provided her with a way to conceal the scent of decay that hid in the chilly depths of her neck. Coin jingled lightly in her pocket, doe-like hues scanning the pale light of the city in the sky. She longed for daylight, still, after all these years. The scene was painted in a fashion which was pleasantly bonhomie, though as a creature of the night she could be nothing less appropriate of the title. She brimmed with resentment and sibylline thought, odius for her exile into darkness. The onerous dancer wore her death well, at least. Despite internal bellicosity, she carried herself with the qualities expected of her: a lady of preposessing and fair features, taciturn (unless someone saw fit to destroy her clothing or threaten her safety), and graceful. Lifting her features out of the confines of her scarf for a moment, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her nose lead her features in the brisk wind, as if she stood, searching with her senses until she caught a lingering trace of who she'd been looking for. Once caught, it was easy to follow. For that skill, she would never complain. She walked into the city, musing to herself about the decorations for the festival on the street. When she arrived at the doorstep of her destination, she rapped on the door lightly with the backs of her delicate knuckles. "Hello?" she asked, curious to know if the tailor kept late hours. If not, she'd just have to go see about that dance practice. :Ѻ:

Durango
*It was another busy day and another day of burning the late hour oil. He was dressed as he normally was sometimes. Those crisp clothes of a black long sleeved dress shirt, slacks, and white floppy eared bunny slippers. Today he didn't have on a vest though, mostly because it was a lazy day and he hadn't had anyone really come by. That was okay, gave him time to catch up on everything and he was just started to think of going home for the night. Primarily due to the fact that he missed his babies and they were his world. Though, he was sitting upon the lounge chair in front of the fire place as it burned brilliantly, illuminating the room along with the many candles. His shop a place of splendor and refinement. Red velvet cushioned chairs and couches, elegant side tables, red velvet drapery that covered the window. All the many mannequins that were dressed in those sparkly dresses, *see personal site*. Some were sexy, others ball gowns, and some were unique. Those were the ones that he typically sent to the castle for the Empress and all the ladies he served there. Except, he just hadn't counted on a midnight visitor when he heard that knock upon his door. His head lifted and that silver hue looked over the glasses towards the entrance as he waved his hand to emit a touch of magic and open the door from where he sat. It was much easier then leaving his comfy perch and the embroidery was nearly done. Then he had to work on lace appliques, some beadwork. Woo! His schedule was already jam packed and it wasn't even quite the Christmas holidays yet. Oh, those he almost dreaded and with the winter orders coming in, he was practically swamped. But, he never turned anyone down, that was the wonders of not really having to sleep to survive! He could just keep working and working, and working. Much like a little pink energizer bunny!*

:Ѻ: When the door opened in front of her, but without a hand guiding it, she paused. Briefly wondering if she perhaps had pushed it open, the vespertine leaned in slightly, lead by that pointy nose. Of course, she could smell him before anything else. Unlike his son, Durango's scent was a bit less abrasive. It wasn't softer, but easier on the nose. And mingled with it, traces of an illusive scent which reminded her of spices and incense. "Durango Black, I assume?" she asked with a girlish smile, lambent hues dropping for a moment as full lips parted around a set of white teeth. Her smile was dazzling, and she knew it. Self-aware enough to understand how to be demure was a handy skill when you were about to tell someone their son was a clumsy fool. She surveyed the gowns as she stepped in, realizing quickly that Durango was an expert in his craft. Of course, she had inquired about his name, only to be distracted moments later. She nearly yelped with excitement as she picked up a swath of silky fabric. "Is this...Kaga Yuzen?" she asked increduly as she held up the corner of the fabric delicately. She realized quickly after that she'd practically barged in, demanded confirmation of his name, and accosted him on the origin of one of his exotic fabrics (albiet much more politely) during a busy time for him. She spied the elegant tailor at work with embroidery and she let go of the Yuzen to mill over toward him. "I'm sorry, I just..." she held up her hands, "I'm overwhelmed, everything in here is so -beautiful-." she said with genuine earnest. "Augh, it is so nice to be surrounded by such lovely things!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together over the bulk of her scarf. (Knitted of Persian Wool) The vespertine beamed with pride at the tailor, "We've run into one another two days in a row now, and wouldn't you know, I'm in need of a dress." :Ѻ:

Durango
*Slowly he would move to sit up on that lounge chair and set that ring down as he tilted his head while watching the female. Of course it took him a moment to realize who she was, but he smiled none the less. Not near as flashy as her, but more soft as he moved to stand up before smoothing out his clothes.* "Lady Caderyn... It is good to see you again this chilly eve, Welcome to my humble shop" *He stated before walking over towards her with a well practiced grace that only a very comfortable feminine male could manage. His long black hair was brushed straight and fell down his back to his thighs. Carefully he would reach into his shirt pocket and pull out a small note as a slender brow arched upwards.* "Thank you for such compliments, I am not worthy, but I doubt you just came here by accident" *Mostly considering, from the outside, his shop looked like a regular home almost. It was just off from the marketplace and not exactly advertised like the taverns or inns. Durango's scent was much more unique when up close to someone who could capture the traces. Traces of blood, death, decay, sulfur, a serpentines unique smell, and of course canine. But his shop was exotic as he would continue to hold up the note.* "I assume it is due to my clumsy son, Shaw. Correct? He told me you might be coming by.. that clutz, I swear he does things on purpose. He's already taken one of my finished jackets for your brother..." *He grumbled a little before shaking his head as he moved to put the note back in his shirt.* "Would you like a cup of tea? I just got in some good Oolong tea" *Had to be courteous and polite, although he had to chuckle. She was beautiful and with his sons flustered hand writing, it was made clear why. But he would take care of her.* "So.. How may I be assistance of you, Lady Caderyn?" *

:Ѻ: The willowy vampire watched Durango as he inclined his head from his work, and rose to haunt toward her with a kind of svelte grace that had not been passed onto his son. She listened as he spoke, nodding with a knowing grin as a thick, manicured brow piqued over her left eye. (A quirk she couldn't quite shake, as it always sat a bit higher than the other, and made her appear in a constant state of intrigue or sarcasm.) "Humble as it is, it's one of the loveliest I've ever set foot in." she added to combat his modesty. "And ah, you've caught me." she admitted, both hands lifting to either side of her with a light shrug. Her lips formed a practiced frown as she nodded toward the note. "I'm sure I'd have found myself in need of your assistance within the next couple of days, but yes, Bradshaw has...sped up the process." she said with a diplomatic tenor. There was no need to expose the racy context of their exchange. And it seemed Durango was well aware of his son's faux-pas already. Alice shook her head along with him as he grumbled and shoved the note back into his pocket. "You'll have a teeming business if he has anything to do with it." she added positively, voice mellifluous as she traced along behind him. Letting her hands clasp in front of her, she'd nod in earnest. "Honestly, I'd love that." she replied in response to the offer of Oolong. "It seems I'll be needing something to wear to the Autumn Gala." she hesitated to say, glancing around at all of the work-in-progress around them that was likely due to the very same event. "As Bradshaw insists he escort me there." she added with that brow quirk again, eyes rolling briefly afterward. As if she weren't going to attend already! "I know you must be positively swamped..." she added after, biting down on the inside of her lip. "Perhaps you've already got something pre-made that can be fitted?" she offered with consideration. She breathed a bit easier around Durango than she had with Bradshaw, given that his scent was far more inviting and the atmosphere was far less tenuous. Admittedly, that had been exciting. But comfort had its own appeal. Once beyond the small parlor space, she found a comfortable seat on one of the many plush velvet counches, fingertips canvassing the seat gently to enjoy its texture. Alice was glad she'd not shoved her foot in her mouth when it came to the Chevalier uniforms, especially given that Bradshaw seemed to have lifted one belonging to Cael...which explained the shifty fit. :Ѻ:

Durango
*A chuckle escaped the male, his tone was a smooth tenor as he made his way into that open concept kitchen. Setting a pot of water onto the stove to heat up as he moved to lean against the counter while listening to her.* "Technically I am always busy.. Any holiday or event just makes it 10x worse. But that is okay, ensures my wealth and my ability to provide everything for my children" *Which meant that they were all spoiled rotten. Though as he turned back around once the water was boiling to pull down a tea pot and a couple of cups, he then reached into another cupboard to grab the can of tea. Only, he very nearly dropped it when she mentioned that Shaw was escorting her.. wait.. what?! He lost his composure for a moment and looked at her with surprise.* "Shaw?.. that wiley fox is actually taking someone somewhere, other then his own pride?" *Oh.. wasn't Durango just the most awesome father ever?!* "Oh lord have mercy, the heavens are going to fall" *he would make sure to firmly set the can down before he transferred the leaves first into the teapot, then he would pour the hot water in slowly as to not completely disturb the leaves. He almost looked like he was thinking on something.* "Well.. Since you have gotten my son to take a beautiful lass like you somewhere, I'll design you a dress. I've already gotten the Empress's, Princess's, and other noble ladies dresses and gowns done for the month. Now I am just killing time with the Gala" *He stated before putting the tea pot onto the tray as he set strainers over the cups. He put on some macaroons and a few other simple treats as he picked up the tray and walked over to Adelaide, setting it down on the coffee table in front of her. He would take his own seat while crossing his right leg over his left.* "So.. which fabrics do you prefer?.. Or will you let me design something entirely new for you?" *There was that offer too as he let the tea steep for 3 1/2 minutes as he picked up the tea pot and slowly poured it into the tea cup and through the strainer to catch the leaves before setting the tea pot back down.*E

:Ѻ: The vespertine listened with interest as he glided toward his kitchen. She could hear the gentle clink of serveware as he collected the necessary accoutrements for the tea and the gentle tenor of his voice as he spoke about his profession and family. The care in his voice signaled both passion and pride in his work and children. Distantly, she thought about she and Cael's mother and father. A pang of maudlin struck her as she considered the way they might have spoke about the pair if they had still been alive. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she blinked a few times when he re-entered the room and smiled to refresh her expression. "Ah... to be clear, " she cleared her throat a bit and held a hand to her chest, "He's escorting me on the grounds that..." she lowered her voice in a poor mock interpretation of Bradshaw's, holding up her hands in air-quotes as she spoke his words, "... I will in my duty as a Chevalier accompany you. " and then a pause before she continued in her mock-voice, "I'd hate to see something happen to my mentors sister that isn't done by my own hand after all. " After which, she grinned. "His words, not mine." she added for emphasis. She collected the cup offered with gentle hands, moving with smooth, trained grace to hold the cup delicately. She breathed in the steam off the surface of the tea and sighed. It smelled like summer. "I suspect the threat was an empty one." she added in a blase manner, sipping at the rim of the cup, "Though, I'm almost certain he meant to imply that the escort is a matter of business, and not one of pleasure." she clarified, seemeing unperturbed in the least by the notion. Ah, but onto a more fun topic: Dresses! She seemed to perk up afterward, if only because the very thought of having a custom gown was absolutely tittilating to her. "I prefer lighter fabrics, "  she gestured to herself, "Being cold doesn't bother me, so its not a consideration I have to take in the cooler air." she continued. "I'd very much like something in a softer pink, if possible. I don't..." she raised her chin, "have any reservations about modesty. So something revealing and semi-sheer.." she rose a brow and gestured to the note in his pocket, "ought to get a rise out of him?" she asked with a coquette smile and another sip out of the cup. "A longer gown, of course, as it's a Gala." she corrected, "So perhaps something made of applique" she gestured to her chest, "Elegant, but nothing too...chaste." she said with a nod. "Feel free to take some creative liberties, of course. I trust your judgement." Alice winked. :Ѻ:

Durango
*He was taking mental notes of everything she spilled of what she liked, wanted, how to put it together. It was going to be an elegant piece and in light pinks.. But the thought of the cold air made him shiver and the idea that Bradshaw used that sort of excuse. Looks like he was going to have to slap that boy upside the head or something. Though it did make for a bit of good mystery as he gave her a definite sincere smile.* "Come back at the end of the week and I should have something put together" *He stated before he looked around curiously and seemed to pout about something, but what was it? His mate was not here and he wanted a foot rub.. And to possibly try and steal a dragon scale off of him as well...……. or a few.* "Otherwise.. I think you should get going, the day is young for you, is it not?.. I have to start my drawing!" *He seemed excited by the notion of getting to draw something from the ground up.*

:Ѻ:Alice crossed her feet at the ankle as he shivered. She liked being crepuscular for that, at least. Never feeling cold, while always longing for warmth. Clothing did little to sustain the kind of warmth of the living, which was a kind of sweetness reserved for the people of the night. She was already musing about how lovely it would be to watch him flush with frustration as she accepted dances with those in court and not-- she'd already a couple of requests. And on the grounds that he hadn't formally invited her as his partner, she had no reason to say no. The gala would be a lovely night for a little bit of emotional torture and manipulation. Sure that Bradshaw would tire with her games, she figured there was no harm in enjoying the short lived romp for the fun it could offer. (Little did she know-- the interest ran deeper than he let on. She'd certainly find out if she kept pushing those buttons.) She nodded as she finsished the cup of Oolong, beaming with excitement over the notion of a custom gown. "Ouh, I can't wait!" she preened, setting the cup on the table. For a moment, Durango seemed upset about something. About to ask when he reminded her of the hour and announced his need to get to his work, her expression softened into a resigned affirmation. "Oh, yes. Of course, you're right. I do have a few things to get to." she replied as she uncrossed her legs and stood in one fluid motion. She was fast, and always slowing her pace to make the living more comfortable with her presence. She focused often on things like blinking and breathing...as when she didn't it created a subtle discomfort amongst them. She reached over to set a thin hand on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, from the bottom of my dead little heart." she said with a bright smile. "I appreciate your hard work, and I admire your talent." she said before collecting the edges of her coat to tug them across her lithe frame. "I'll see you soon, I'm sure?" she asked with that pesky piqued brow. Of course she would, she'd be needing a Chevalier uniform of her own shortly. And if Bradshaw survived the lengthy emotional torture of their hate-hate relationship, he owed her a second dress...and dinner. With a darling little wave she stepped to the door and out into the brisk night air, leaving behind the scent of decay, balsam, amber...and to the trained nose, Bradshaw.:Ѻ: