Puttin' on the Ri- IS THAT A MASK!? - HI Log 3

Iyzebel was browsing the different shops in the virus city on a fairly warm, breezy day.  With large hands in her hoodie's over-sized pockets, and a rather discontented expression on her off-tan face, she padded on down the walk.  Glaring in at the things she saw for sale in the various shops, she paused in front of a building with tall glass windows full of elaborate, embroidered dresses with wide skirts and ruffles and beaded masks and hats.  Yes, the she-virus had some purchases to make, and this was as good a place as any to start, it seemed.

Growling a bit under her breath, she hunched her shoulders and entered the shop.  The tinkling of a bell announced her arrival, and the shop-owner merely nodded to her.  Seems that they them self were quite uninterested in their own business. . .  No matter to her, really.  She wasn't exactly in the mood to be hounded by some annoying and overly-cheerful sales clerk insistent on measuring her body in front of some odd array of mirrors and lights.  Alright, so she wasn't quite sure exactly how these stores worked, but she was pretty sure she hated them.

In fact, the whole ordeal was pretty strange given the circumstances.  Those circumstances being that Iyzebel, the feisty, party-hating, dress-despising, noise-loathing, loner had, for some reason, decided that maybe a little excitement would do her good, and had gone ahead and RSVP'd for this giant masquerade party that was hosting the people of all three alliances--humans, hunters, and viruses.  She hadn't exactly paid a lot of attention to why this was going on, but she had gone ahead and signed up anyway.  (And come on, there was free food.  That was as good a reason to go as any.  Maybe even better.)

Almost immediately following her RSVP came the news from Freize that she'd be going to the party under the identity of "Pawn."  Yes, . . . a pawn.  Iyzebel had almost growled aloud at the alias.  She'd wondered if it was some subtle jab at her from a higher up about her position in the virus hierarchy, and had grudgingly begun to prepare for the ball by going about and checking out the different party stores.  It seemed that all of the good things were taken . . . not that she could really fit into many of them due to her arms' odd proportions and her, ahem, tail.  But she kept on regardless.

Now she was browsing through the racks of dresses all placed tastefully about the showroom.  There were all kinds, all colors, and all sizes, and she had no idea where to even start.  "A bloody pawn . . . 'ow am I s'pposed ta dress li'e a pawn?!" she muttered crossly, her red and black eyes scouring over the selection of gowns with equal measures of disdain and dislike.  This was going to be more arduous than she'd previously thought . . .

Be'er pick a color 'r somethin' first, she thought, gaze sweeping the store.  But what could she pick?  Pawns were black or white . . . maybe something in that range?  She looked.  There weren't a lot of white dresses to choose from, really.  And the ones that were available were all too . . . elegant for her taste.  She sneered slightly and looked to the black ones.  It seemed that most of those were either skin tight and sparkly, or big and feathery or ruffled.  That wouldn't do.  She huffed a bit, scratching her head.  Then, she glanced over at a rack near the side wall.  It'd been mostly concealed by a rolling rack of spring dresses that were probably to be stored away for next season, if not tossed out completely.

She tilted her head, walking over, and pushed the wheeled device aside.  There, on the rack were a few rather tasteless, gray dresses.  It was obvious why they were all hidden away from view.  Iyzebel sighed through her nosed and began perusing through them anyways.  Some of them were sleeved . . . those wouldn't do . . . others had tight bodices . . . not her thing . . . but one of them, one near the end of the rack, was a little different.  Its soft silver-gray fabric gleamed in the light of the shop, and it had a fairly open cut so she wouldn't feel as though she were being strangled by a really weak person.  It wasn't very long either, it ended in a nice, even cut below her knees, and had a train that extended the rest of the way to the floor in the back.  It had a simple pattern--mostly gray with some darker gray swirls and vine-like embroidery.  It looked pretty nice, actually.  But perhaps what the best thing about it was were the sleeves.  They were long and very, very wide--almost reaching where the dress ended in the front.  She'd have absolutely no problems fitting her arms in that.

Now came the even more fun part . . . finding some kind of accessory to go with this dress.  She took the dress off of the bar and looked up, immediately seeing the huge selection of masks lined up on the tall wall.  "Whoa . . ." she breathed, walking around the rack to better get to the masks.  She slung the dress over one arm and ran a claw over one of the lower shelves, going over different masks.  There were lots of interesting ones to choose from--bright ones, dull ones, multicolored, plain, feathered, beaded, embroidered, hand-painted, etc.

Her mouth went to one side as she debated which ones to try on, and she settled for a few gray ones.  Might as well match the dress right?  After having picked them all up, she went to the back where the changing rooms were, and stepped in to get everything put on.

~

Walking back out after a bit of struggled, she went and stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out the skirt before looking herself over.  It actually fit very nicely in her opinion, and the train somewhat hid her tail.  The sleeves were perfect, as she'd expected, and the cut wasn't too low, nor too high.  It'd do, she decided.

That's when she eyed the masks.  Going over to the bench where she'd laid them, she lifted one in her giant paws and went back to the mirror.  Carefully pulling back the string, she stretched it and fit it on, moving it a bit to get the holes lined up with her eyes, and she looked back into the mirror.

Almost immediately her breath caught and her ears pricked.  The mask . . . it gave her eyes a dangerous edge with the shape of the cut of the holes.  That, and the feathered edges just barely brushed her cheeks, tickling them and dappling them with faint shadows.  The pattern seemed to draw you in to her face, as well, and for a moment, she forgot she was looking at herself.  Quickly, she pulled off the mask, shaking her hair out a little bit, and stared at herself in the mirror.  After a moment, she lifted the mask up again, and then lowered it and raised it again.  It was . . . extraordinary to witness the changes that it brought to her appearance, and with a sly glance at the other masks she'd brought, she side-stepped over and deposited hers before retrieving another.

She went back in front of the mirror and almost giddily tried it on.  Well, well, well, she thought with a smirk.  Oo's 'at bird?  A fanged grin curled her mouth up at the corners and she tried on the other quickly, noting how much sassier this one was.

Taking the masks off again she looked at them all, and then back out at the display.  Well . . . I shoul' really try ou' a few more.  Jus' ta fin' one I li'e. . .

~

Much of the rest of the time Iyzebel spent at the store was used up with just trying on masks, masks, and more masks.  She couldn't get enough of it--it was vastly entertaining to her, trying on every one of them.  She'd pose, make faces, and just laugh at the product in the mirror.  The clerk behind the counter at the front of the store was starting to get irritated at her antics, before growing almost steadily concerned by her almost creepy obsession with the accessories.

She was swapping one with another and then another almost at the speed of light, taking interest in every one of them.  It was the kind of thing you see in movie montages, and would have probably been very entertaining to watch if it had been.  But eventually, she'd tried on just about every mask there was in the store, and a giant pile of them laid scattered on the floor and benches, not to mention hanging from literally every hook in the dressing room.

She quickly turned to look for more before stopping abruptly.  The walls which had been chalked full of the things were now bare, the shelves empty.  She felt a prick of disappointment.  Surely that wasn't all the fun to be had?  She looked about the store for a moment longer before coming to the conclusion that she'd tried them all on.  That was great and all . . . but she hadn't really found one that matched her dress yet.  Crap.

She sighed a little and turned back to the dressing area, guessing she could rummage about in the mess she'd made to find something that'd work.  Hell, it'd give her an excuse to try them all on again.  But on her way, her foot bumped something on the wooden floorboards that made an odd scraping sound, kind of like a light wood.

Glancing down and lifting her cat-like foot, she saw, much to her surprise and renewed excitement, a mask.  It was gray with dark gray swirls, much like her dress, and the parts over the eyes were shaped like wings.  At the top was a circle with an upside-down, red, painted heart.  It was very interesting and pretty much perfect for her dress.  Scooping it up, she quickly went to go try it on.

~

The clerk was seriously debating whether or not to go to the back of the store and scold the she-virus he'd seen making a huge mess.  And just as he was about to get up and approach her, she suddenly popped up in front of the counter, startling the daylights out of him.  He jumped as she quickly slammed a dress and mask onto the counter.

"I wan' these!" she practically shouted, eyes wild.  "I got money!" she added, whipping out a wallet and slamming it down next to her purchases, again making the clerk jump.  Perhaps this wasn't someone he should be reprimanding?

Shakily he nodded and scooped the items together, carefully folding up the dress and mask and placing them into a plastic bag which he then put on the counter after ringing up the prices.  "A-alright," he said.  "That'll be-"

"'Ere!" she shout-replied again, practically shoving the money in his face, and before he even really had a chance to put the money in the register and hand over the bag, she'd scooped it up and was happily trotting out the door.

". . . . Bloody weirdo."