8 Consimbs 4385: Conversations While Furstyling

[delight-in.livejournal.com]

Voidsy never sleeps when I furstyle him, so we talked while I worked. A lot of Temple stuff, the rites he'd been doing and the kinds of things "Here" like and dislikes and the conversation Voidsy had with a Locador angel last month. I told him what I'd been up to, like visiting Boomsy and rescuing Boomsy and the furstylist's guild going mad and asking me to stand for master.

Void-Dancer laughed so hard at this that I had to stop styling him. "I can't paint you if you curl up like that!"

"S ... sorry," he gasped, schooling his features and straightening out on the bed. "What did Violetbloom say after 'dedi ... dedicate ' -- " Void-Dancer lost it again, doubling up in paroxysms of laughter.

I gave up on furstyling for the moment and got out my scroll to read it aloud in my best crazy-prime-fanatic voice.

When he finally stopped laughing, he insisted on seeing the invitation. So I spent fifteen minutes hunting it down (it was on a shelf in our closet under a clean towel) and let him read it while I tried to finish blackening him.

Void-Dancer flipped it over twice. "Not much for details, are they? So you're not going to stand the test?"

"I don't know. Probably not. I'm rich and retired now and tired of furstyling."

He glanced over his shoulder, watching my fingers work matte black color down to the roots of his fur and stain his skin. "... Sister, if you're tired of furstyling, why did you offer to do my fur?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're my BROTHER, you don't count. And I'm more sick of it as a job than as a hobby."

"Ah." He turned back to the invitation, smirking.

I sighed. "I suppose you think I should do it, too?"

"'Should'?" He chuckled, then laughed. "Absolutely not. The guild has clearly gone mad and has no idea of your typical proclivities. Presuming master furstylists have duties beyond styling, you are wholly unsuited for them and would indubitably make a hash of whatever responsibilities they gave you. They'd probably increase your guild dues and hinge your status as master contingent on continued payment, making it awkward and expensive to go on your random month-long jaunts with no notice. It's a terrible idea for both you and them."

"FINALLY!" I threw up my hands. "SOMEONE understands!"

Void-Dancer snickered. "It would be enormously funny, though."

So I was about two-thirds through with Void-Dancer and working on his chest fur when Glorious Cool walked in.

"Delight! I didn't think -- oops, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt -- " Her ears were flat with embarrasment and she started to back out of the room, then she stopped. "Oh, it's just Void-Dancer." She padded into the room and flopped onto her bed. "How's things, Void?"

"Well enough," my brother answered.

"You know, you've got nice fur," Glorious Cool remarked. "When you're not covering it all up with blacker-than-black-blackening."

"Uh-huh," I said. Void-Dancer didn't dignify it with a response.

Glorious Cool watched me work for a few moments. "I don't get it, Dee. If giving Lady Vina a bad furstyle was so awful that you'd rather get fired than do it, why are you willing to do that to your own brother? Seriously. I've never seen you do a more boring furstyle. Is it revenge for some slight when you were growing up? That time he abandoned you at the market?"

Void-Dancer snorted. "I did not abandon her."

"Noooooo Lady Vina wanted a bad look that didn't suit her at ALL and this style suits Voidsy fine," I told her.

"So you're saying he's boring and black-hearted?"

Void-Dancer rolled his eyes.

"I'm saying -- " I twisted my head to look over my shoulder at her " -- that he dances with Locador angels and serves the god of infinite space, and that if he wants to look like it then that's a pretty fair call."

"Hmph. He still looks better au naturel."

"Stop ogling my brother, Glory."

Glorious Cool flattened her ears and rolled over to face the wall. "As IF." Void-Dancer snickered.