shelley_winters | (no subject)

(no subject)

Shelley feels strange.

It isn't just being worried about that evening, it's... well, everything. Starting with what - after over half an hour's careful make up - she now looks like, which is not herself. Loira had told her something about it being intended for the low lighting, and maybe it will work there, but the girl still feels decidedly uncomfortable about it. Her lips are stained ridiculously dark, and it doesn't appear to be coming off, though she has already tried to discreetly lighten it. She decided right off that even going anywhere near the shading around her eyes would be a bad move.

The dress... Loira is helping her with it right now, and she could see from the moment she opened the box that it will be beautiful. Beautiful, but not something Shelley Winters would ever wear. But then, isn't this whole evening supposed to be a forfeit? It feels like a punishment, though for what she doesn't know. She blinks perfectly-blackened eyelashes carefully to make sure no tears fall. That would never do.

Then coughs in surprise, as the laces down her back are pulled tight.

"...Loira. Ow."

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A sweetly-phrased reply as Loira gave the laces another snug pull. It had to be done up tightly or it would not fit right.

"Apologies, my lady."

A quick breath as she brushed her own hair out of her eyes.

"We would not want it to fall off. That would be very embarassing."

Shelley blanches behind the powder at the thought.

"...No. No, we would not. The, um. Sleeves should help?"

She has a feeling that this isn't really the time to bring up the fact that she has never worn a shoulderless dress before, and isn't quite sure about the physics of the situation.

Loira simply laughed at the comment as if it were a joke and wandered over to the dresser to get a few of the hair styling tools. Long smooth brush strokes through her Mistress's bright red hair.

"Well, my lady, you do look beautiful."

"...Thanks," replies Shelley uneasily, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

She wishes she could sit down, but that would wrinkle the gown, most likely. It fits her... well, perfectly, she supposes but it really is a good deal tighter than she had expected.

As Loira began to fix Shelley's hair, she glanced down at the sound of scampering. Clucking her tongue, she shook her head as Abdiel pranced into the room with a mangled pair of Shelley's undergarments.

"...The little pervert has absconded with more of your undergarments, my lady."

Abdiel, however, beamed up at Shelley with pride as if waiting for praise for his part in the destruction of her underwear.

Shelley rolls her eyes down at her cat.

"Bad Abdiel. Those are mine. Not yours!"

Normally at this point she would pick him up, but the thought of Loira's flailing should she get cat hair on the dress stops her.

Loira simply shook her head as Abdiel sulked off under the bed at Shelley's reproval. He was a rascal, but a cute one she supposed. She had never been much of a cat person, but her Mistress adored him.

"Do not worry, I will have them replaced."

Shelley sighs.

"It doesn't really matter. I would like to know how he manages to get them, though. I mean, I keep them in a high-up drawer."

Loira shrugged. It was a mystery to her how he did it, actually. Carefully, she pinned a bit of Shelley's hair in place.

"I would like to know myself, but he is extremely clever, especially where mischief is concerned."

Shelley smiles slightly.

"He is. Well, as long as it's things like that, and not clawing people."

Not that Shelley doesn't frequently sport thin scratches from where he climbs her arms or rides on her shoulder.

Loira frowned slightly as a piece of Shelley's hair came loose. What a bother... She had always wondered if her spending all that time doting on Abdiel was particularly healthy. Not that her mistress seemed particularly stable, what with the frequent bouts of tears. It bothered her that Lord Ishamael did not see to that, maybe with a psychiatrist or medication. It was simply irresponsible.

"I suppose so, my lady."

A bright, cheery smile as if suddenly distracted. She had asked to see the guest list of the party so she would know how to fix Lady Shelley's hair.

"I heard that Lanfear will be at this party. She is supposed to be very beautiful."

Shelley knows the name. From Natael, first, about how she betrayed him in some way, then further from Ishamael.

"I've heard of her. She's one of the Forsaken, too?"

A confused look from Loira. Forsaken? Is that a kind of derogatory term for the Chosen? Diplomacy was best here.

"...She is one of the Chosen, if that is what you mean."

Shelley makes a face. They do whatever they want, no matter how horrific, so she'll call them what she wants.

"That's what I meant."

Loira nodded calmly, missing the face entirely as she fixed her bright red hair. A cheerful smile as she quietly disclosed to Shelley.

"Well, Lanfear is allegedly incredibly beautiful... I heard that she always wears white though. A touch dull, if you ask me."

"Must show the bloodstains something awful," Shelley replies coldly.

A shocked look from Loira as she gasped in reply. It was rare to hear Lady Shelley be so mean when she wasn't having... a poor time of it. Not that it did not happen frequently, though.

"Oh! What a spiteful thing to say!"

Shelley folds her arms coolly, staring straight ahead. In the mirror on the other side of the room, the stranger with exaggerated makeup gazes back.

"They're all murderers and torturers. So I don't think it's technically spiteful if it's a valid observation."

Loira said nothing for a moment, and her normally cheerful voice was cold and subdued as she inquired quietly. One did not question the actions of the Chosen.

"Would you like this ornament in your hair?"

She held out the piece of jewelrey to Shelley.

Shelley turns to glance at it.

It is pretty, delicate gold filigree, but she slowly shakes her head. Much as she dislikes to wear anything he gives her, she will be in a room full of Forsaken.

"No, I don't think so. It won't look right with the necklace. Elan wanted me to wear it. Here, see?"

She reaches over to the table and opens the box to show Loira the ter'angreal.

A quiet moment as she glanced at the necklace. It was... a bit frightening considering the snakes, but Lord Ishamael had odd tastes. Loira, however, mimicked appreciation admirably.

"Oh, it is quite pretty, my lady. You are right, it would not look right."

Shelley glances down at it. The thing has a certain style to it, but 'pretty' is debatable.

"I'll put it on last," she says, reluctant to be in contact with it for any more time than necessary.

Loira nodded calmly. Shelley had a lot of odd habits, and she indulged them as necessary.

"What were you thinking about earrings, then?"

Shelley shrugs uncomfortably. Her shoulders feel very exposed, left bare by the dress as they are.

"If there is anything that might match this in some way? Maybe match the stone in the middle, or the colour of the metal... What do you think?"

Loira walked over to the small jewelry box and sifted through the earrings that had been provided.

"What about these garnet studs, my lady? Simple, but quite attractive, I think?"

Shelley glances down at the pendant to confirm, and nods.

"Thank you. Those will be all right."

Loira nodded calmly and quickly put the earrings on Shelley. It was the proper thing, and she did not want to get her hair stuck in the earrings.

"There, my lady."

"Thanks," she says again, touching them lightly with a small frown. It feels so very odd having sombody else put your earrings on you.

"H-how long until I have to go, do you know?"

It was her duty to know such things and she quickly replied.

"Forty-five minutes or so, my lady."

"Oh, God."

Carefully the girl leans forward against the table. Is it too late to make a run for it?

Loira nodded quietly before patting her mistress on the shoulder. Graendal's pets bothered her as well, at least in concept, but Loira was sure they were even worse in person.

"It will be quite all right, my lady. Just go on and enjoy yourself."

Shelley suppresses a bitter laugh. She isn't entirely sure it wouldn't have come out slightly hysterical instead. Enjoying herself is the least likely thing that could happen tonight.

She sighs instead, and looks at the floor.

Loira nodded calmly and put her arm around her mistress delicately. She was so very volatile. Medication could help that.

"You have a pretty dress and a pretty young man on your arm... It will be enjoyable."

Shelley grits her teeth and turns to give Loira a vaguely disgusted look.

"He is old enough to be my ancestor, and wherever he is in relation to me, I don't want him there."

A light laugh as Loira waved dismissively. Why would one be concerned by the age of a Channeler? It was like being resentful that a man was preposterously wealthy.

Just silly.

"You have such silly conceptions. He is a Channeler. That is the way of things."

"He's also my jailer, and I detest him."

Her hands are clenching again, and she stops with an effort. Her painted nails have left little pink half-moons in her palms.

Now, Loira would never lie to her mistress and pretend that her relation with Lord Ishamael made even the slightest shred of sense, and so she was never sure exactly what to say at such moments.

So she found it best to simply wiggle her toes at Abdiel until he swatted at her from under the bed.

"Abdiel! My toes are not your playthings."

Somewhere in her frightened, angry mind, Shelley knows why Loira will never commit herself to an opinion one way or the other. She is loyal to Ishamael, but her maid, and the conflict of interests means she can't.

But oh, does it ever set her teeth on edge never to be listened to, always ignored when she tries to explain about this.

She walks away from the woman, furiously aware that she really does try to help, but needing to get away, get out for a bit; but of course she can't and ends up walking into the bathroom instead, and pouring a glass of water with a shaking hand, staring down at the smooth stone floor and trying to get a grip on herself.

Frowning slightly at her mistress's silent outburst, Loira quickly picked up Abdiel and carried him into the bathroom.

She smiled as he craned his neck forward and licked the tip of Shelley's nose.

The girl and the kitten stare at each other for a moment, Shelley's eyes unusually cold and distant.
no no no I hate you all I hate I hate I can't stop it I want to go home stop it
Then she reaches up with a small finger to scratch slowly behind Abdiel's ear, and he closes his eyes to purr in bliss.

Loira held him out for her mistress to pet. She could not very well get cat hair on her gown. A small smile from Loira at the purring form. Abdiel always soothed her.

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