Private Tales Here and There, Far Away— Far, Far Away

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Casimir Bielke

Marshmallow Softie
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Winter in Autumn Court was usually a nice time to walk about the streets of Laigin. There was still that usual bustle of fae moving to and fro, as was expected of a capitol, but winter seemed to dull that edge. There was far less humidity in the air, which some enjoyed and some complained about, and everything just seemed crisper in general. There was also that calm after the wild hunt, so far more cwn annwn and black shucks filled those streets, each one performing some sort of duty or a personal errand. There were a lot more “days off” in the Sluagh, already Cas was seeing less of the winter court based shucks, although he wished that meant he could just see black shucks less in general.

Luckily for him, at his favorite tailor and alterations boutique, the soft cwn annwn never caught a broody scent full of murder and OCD. It was his reprieve from the hunt, and most other things. Not to mention, it wasn’t as popular as it wasn’t on the main streets, despite the fact that the owners Meliore and Zaneta took their craft very seriously. From customizing old pieces that have fallen out of fashion, collecting all sorts of fabrics, and designing some of the most beautiful pieces Casimir Bielke had ever laid his soft lilac eyes on, it was safe to say that this place was where Cas spent a large portion of his paycheck.

Stepping inside the shop, there was a sense of coolness that didn’t match the outside. While a bit frigid, Cas didn’t mind it. He hated sweating, and he’d prefer to walk through the shop and touch items knowing that they didn’t hold sweat stains in case others had tried them on. The shop had high, vaulted ceilings, and despite the store being a narrow rectangular shape, from the entrance to the back was at least fifty meters, and nearly every part of the wall was utilized with shelves lining the entire shop. Two sets of ladders could be found on each wall, one for smaller fae and one for larger fae, so that way everyone could reach even the topmost shelf (which Cas called the eighth level). A small dressing room for men and a slightly larger one for women were at the back, next to the door that Zaneta was often behind as Meliore was the more extroverted of the two and dealt with customers.

Despite this being Cas’ “happy place” towards those dressing rooms, Cas could hear a bit of a commotion going on. Strange, and unusual, just as much as the fact that Meliore wasn’t near the register to greet him. But it sounded like she was busy, dealing with a customer? Didn’t bother him though, he might just be window shopping today.

Ophelia Eärtári
 

Ophelia Eärtári

The Unlucky
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The tailoring shop was all but empty as Ophelia stepped inside for the first time since arriving back in Laigin. She had missed the Autumn Court dearly while she was away working on gaining some control over her powers. Five weeks was far too long to have gone without her own home, gardens, and her most favorite shops to waste her money. Spring was nice, but she was homesick. Quite literally so.

It was fun and all while it lasted. Good food, alright company, and decent control over her unfortunate habit of killing those she loves. She couldn't stay forever. The food had begun to make her sick after those weeks and Quacey's presence had begun to irritate her more than usual. Get a chef! She suggested demanded, convinced his meals were giving her food poisoning from all the unfamiliar ingredients. Eventually she gave up and went home, delighted to discover the foods at home making her sick as well. Maybe they royally fucked up her training and now she was making herself ill rather than others.

"No." Ophelia crossed her arms as the two seamstresses circled her, making alterations on a dress she loved. "You do not have to 'take it out'. How dare you even suggest I go up a size or try something else. I have been the same size for a thousand years and I will be for a thousand more. All I am asking is that you fix whatever has gone wrong with this dress. Maybe one of you mixed up the tags and put the wrong size out. I don't know. I don't care. Just fix it. Now." She barked at the poor women, oblivious of the man who had entered in the middle of her tirade.

Casimir Bielke
 

Casimir Bielke

Marshmallow Softie
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Casimir was checking out the different herringbone fabrics as a rather loud customer was complaint about the suggestions the seamstresses had made, or at least that was what it sounded like. He really wasn’t eavesdropping but it was hard for a cwn annwn to not hear things. Very hard. Cas could see Meliore cower while Zaneta seemed to want to talk out of the room. But the most unusual thing was how the duanann female inbetween the two other fae women seemed to suggest she shouldn’t move up a size.

Oh w-would you look at th-that Meliore,” Cas said, walking over to the back of the shop and scooping up a tag that had fallen to the floor. “You busy woman, m-might this n-mot be the t-tag color f-for size d-double zero,” Zaneta shook her head while the sheepish Meliore merely paused, looking at Cas with much confusion. with a charming smile, the cwn annwn continued speaking. “She’s… a… uh, w-what s-size are you… Miss…?” Cas brought his lavender gaze over to Ophelia, hoping for her name and dress size so they can continue lying and hopefully appease her.

Ophelia Eärtári
 
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Ophelia Eärtári

The Unlucky
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Ophelia continued speaking poorly to the poor women until another voice joined in. She snapped her head towards the man, ruby eyes glaring at the poor fool who would interrupt her. Instead of screaming in his face as well, her eyes lowered to the tag in his hands. Snatching it up, she continued. "I knew it! You idiots can't even tag your clothes properly. It is a miracle you are still open after all these years."

She turned back to Casimir, "It's good to see a fresh face working in this shop. I am a size two so can I get this dress in a size two? Not double zero." She motioned for Casimir to run along as though he worked there as she kicked the other two women out of her dressing room and put on a robe. "I don't want to see either of you back in this room. The boy will help me." She scowled at them as she peeked her head out from behind the curtain.

Casimir Bielke
 
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Casimir Bielke

Marshmallow Softie
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Messages
39
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He had only wanted to help, but somehow it ended up with more confusion. Well, that’s what he deserved for practically lying, even if he did it in the most fae way imaginable. A look of confusion had settled upon his fair features as Ophelia labeled him as some worker. He openly gawked at Ophelia as she kicked the two fae out of the dressing room as if they were nuisance, and he looked at them for help. Zaneta could only proffer a sour stare while Meliore looked about ready to cry.

I-I’ll get y-your cor-correct si-size.” Cas stammered to the intimidating duanann and then ushered the other fae far away from her dressing room so they could talk in private. “W-what size is s-she?” He asked Zaneta, stuttering a lot less as he felt much more comfortable around the seamstresses.

“She’s a four,” Zaneta replied scathingly, as if it were Cas who had created such a scene. “She’s delusional, she’s gained weight.” She added, shooting daggers at the dressing room despite Ophelia not being to see the irritated look. Cas felt that despite all of Zaneta’s skill with needle and thread, her people skills were quite lacking. Luckily there was Meliore.

Meliore, j-j-just grab me a f-four,” Cas said with a serious look in his eye. “S-she w-won’t know unless sh-she asks.” He had no issues changing the tags, and even if she did ask, as a fae, he could easily misdirect her question to something else. With teary eyes Meliore did as the cwn annwn said, getting the dress in a four, and Cas changed the tags so it appeared to be a size two. With a deep breath, he headed back towards the dressing room, rapping on the wall to announce his presence.

Uhm… uh, ah… M-miss? I have y-your d-dress.” Making sure that he couldn’t get a glimpse of the lady inside the dressing room, he gently moved his hand through the curtains: holding up the black dress hanging neatly on a hangar.

Ophelia Eärtári
 
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Ophelia Eärtári

The Unlucky
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While waiting for the boy, curiosity, or perhaps insecurity, got the best of her. She dropped the robe to assess herself in the mirror at several angles. She looked a little different. Maybe a bit curvier. Definitely not fat though. Perhaps it was one of those weird mirrors that makes you look worse. It was a weird thing for a tailoring shop to have, but you never know.

She poked at her flesh and pinched the skin. Had she gained weight? It was a possibility, especially with all the fatty and meaty meals Quacey prepared while she was training with him. It would make more sense that she had just been eating too much rather than some freak accident which left almost all of her favorite dresses too small, right?

Definitely not. She concluded. She was the same size, absolutely. She was one hundred percent sure of it. Maybe. Nintey-nine. One of her servants must have messed things up royally without telling her. When she did find out which one of them it was, she would wring their-

Uhm… uh, ah… M-miss? I have y-your d-dress.

The very thought of gaining weight was making her sick. She didn't do that. Putting the robe back on, she opened the curtains enough to grab the dress and give Cas a peak at the sickly green tint to her skin. "Thank you." Even her apology was snappy as she shut the curtain and hurried into the dress. Perfect.

She exited the dressing room and spun around for them to all see.
"You have a good eye." She complimented the boy. "I need to replace about six dresses. Pick what you like and I'll buy it." The unwell feeling remained even after putting on the beautiful dress, so she would have to hurry out and get back home before-

Ophelia could feel the sickness creeping up her throat. She was out of time. Panic filled her eyes as she searched the room, honing in on on a bin that was behind the counter where she would run and release all the contents of her stomach before offering a uncharacteristically sheepish apology to the women she had been berating.
"I'm...sorry about that."

Casimir Bielke
 
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Casimir Bielke

Marshmallow Softie
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Casimir was rather delighted for the compliment. He did have a good eye. He loved fashion, whether it was men’s or women’s. Frankly, he was slightly jealous of all the choices women had, but he was content to dress up other ladies. It was almost like playing dress up with life sized dolls. He couldn’t be more happier.

Especially since he could tell that Ophelia seemed to have a strong personality. Once she said something, anything, Cas knew that it held substance. Maybe not the right sort of substance, but he had to admit to be complimented from someone like Ophelia meant that she did appreciate his sense of style. And he would be more than happy to replace the six dresses for her. After he hid the fact that they were size four. Cas was about to speak something in agreement until Ophelia all of a sudden looked green.

The three fae, Casimir, Meliore, and Zaneta, stood there and stared at Ophelia as the sick over took her. Casimir was surprised someone could heave so much and for no obvious reason at all. It’s not like Jago had curbstomped on her abdomen, which— and Cas knew this from experience— definitely did make one upchuck all their guts.

Uh-uhm.” Cas stammered, taking a hesitant step towards Ophelia, hands outstretch. “P-perhaps y-you sh-should take a s-seat? And I’ll g-get th-the items s-sorted.” He offered, glancing back at Meliore who had a face of worry and Zaneta who wore her disgust openly.

Ophelia Eärtári
 
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Ophelia Eärtári

The Unlucky
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Ophelia stared at the man for a few seconds as he extended a hand, eventually placing one of hers in it and allowed herself to be led to one of the chairs that were scattered about the shop. She took a few deep breaths before responding. "Yes please," She offered a glance towards the two women. "Let me know what I owe you."

She said nothing else to the two women, waiting patiently for the man to pick out whatever and bring it to them. She wouldn't try it on to make sure it fit. She just wanted to leave. If the women had anything else to say- concern for her health or anger for her actions, she would accept it but offer no response. It was mortifying enough, throwing up everything left in her body in front of a stranger and two women she had quite clearly upset.

She watched him pick things out before finally standing up and walking to the counter where she would pull out more money than she owed and grab her new items. The bags were very heavy from the luxurious fabrics that filled them, but she assumed she would be fine to carry them all home. A bit of a far walk, but nothing impossible.

"Thank you again." She thanked the stranger, dropping the bags to pull out some more money from her pockets to tip him. "Have you ever thought of becoming a personal stylist? You picked out every dress I had my eye on. Zaneta and Meliore did well in hiring you, but you might have some real talent working with one person who needs to revamp her wardrobe." She felt a little better after all the heaving. Enough to not-so-subtly attempt to poach the poor man from the place he didn't even work at.

Casimir Bielke
 
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Casimir Bielke

Marshmallow Softie
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Oh the joy Casimir felt to pick out clothes. Meliore was kind enough to inform him that the lady, who was apparently Lady Ophelia Eartari, only wore black items. Which sucked because Casimir thought an apricot dress with pink and red tulle to accent it would have looked lovely with her red eyes and pale features. Needless to say, black was easy. And so Cas made sure to collect dresses that were mostly black. They were excellently crafted and quite stylish, different fabrics and patterns to fit every mood.

It wasn’t long for him to bring them to the counter to be packaged neatly by Meliore’s neat boxing skills and deft wrapping.

Casimir looked at Ophelia curiously as she handed him money, raising up both of his hands and shaking his head slightly. His job was done: Meliore and Zaneta could relax and had gotten paid. It seemed to him though that Ophelia had much wealth about her, after all from the brief glance alone he could tell the tip was generous.

I… I don’t w-work there.” Cas admitted sheepishly, looking at the bags on the floor. “J-just a good de-deed.” He paused. Wondering if the idea that had just popped into his hand if it was a good one or not. “Th-thank you f-for the compliment. D-do you n-need help c-carrying your bags, M-miss?” Cas offered, a bit hesitant but figuring that maybe Ophelia’s sour mood from earlier had been because she wasn’t well. She seemed much calm and kinder now. An upset stomach could make anyone upset.

Ophelia Eärtári
 

Ophelia Eärtári

The Unlucky
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"Oh...You don't work there...." Ophelia's ears twitched. "Is that something you do regularly? Good deeds?" The way she spoke was strange. As if it were the first time she heard the term 'good deeds'. It was simply something she had no clue about. She would have to ask someone about it in the future. Why would someone go out of their way to help a stranger? She certainly would not, she thought.

Her confusion continued as he offered to carry her bags. Was his 'good deed' not done? "I...uh...if you'd like to help you can..." She quietly studied him as she let him take the bags. He didn't look like he had some ulterior motive like Quacey did when she met him. Just an unassuming drinking game turned self-help mission and , as far as she was convinced, a death sentence for the poor man.

She grabbed one of the bags, allowing the young man to carry the rest as she began walking. She struggled with small talk, but felt she should at least try and start by introducing herself to the boy who had gone out of his way to help her. "I'm Ophelia, and you are?" She would have extended a hand, but he was carrying almost everything.

She allowed him to introduce himself before continuing to chat. "I live kind of far, so if you need a break please just say so." She paused. "I did mean what I said, I would like to have someone with your skills to pick things out. I quite enjoy shopping but since I returned from a...vacation...in the Spring Court, I've been tired. Traveling wears me out." But never for weeks... "So, tell me more about yourself. Do you shop at Meliore and Zaneta's often?" She offered a warm smile with her attempt at small talk.

Casimir Bielke
 
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Casimir Bielke

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Casimir nodded his head animatedly, picking up every single bag except for one. They were quite heavy, which shocked Casimir. He was surprised Ophelia could carry them out all by herself. Well, she was taller than him, and had longer arms. Cas looked up at her. She seemed, for that moment, hesitant to take his help. Which surprised Cas. Couldn’t she just tell that he was a good person? It’s not like he was one of those dreary black shucks always skulking about. When Ophelia walked, he did as well, although he seemed to be one or two steps behind her. It was just the usual position that he preferred.

My name is Casimir Bielke, Miss Ophelia,” Casimir said. The fact that she wasn’t looking at him made it much easier for him to talk to her without stuttering a whole bunch. Also, she seemed much calmer now— which also helped with his nervous habit. “I’m a scent hound in the sluagh,” he added. He had no grand title like the black shucks he was often partnered with. However, being in the sluagh still was a sign of status somewhat. He listened intently as the woman spoke.

I’ve been to the spring court once,” he chimed softly, thinking back to the coronation for King Nairth when he and sister, Astrid, escorted Lady Dia. “Quite different from here. I do enjoy Meliore and Zaneta’s store the most.” He admitted. “They take many liberties when it comes to men’s fashion.” He grinned, even though Ophelia couldn’t see it. “Safe to say, I always tend to be one of the best dressed at any party. Well, at least for the men. Women always have so many more choices.” Cas mussed.

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