Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Keeping his thoughts completely closed to Pandora (and his sisters), Ob had slipped into the bathroom and locked the door before his wife could see what was in his arms. The tunic was old, but had been well cared for. The black linen had faded with time, becoming a washed out deep purple instead. He knew Tori would recognize it. He had been wearing it the first time the four now-sibs had played together.
He had kept it, never expecting to wear it again, but Ruarc's naming gave him a reason to bring it out. The near-lavender colored tights tied him to his girls, and he smiles as he drags a comb through his wet hair, untangling knots. Donning the clothes, Ob looks down at himself. The lack of embroidery didn't bother him. He picks up the brocade belt and wraps it twice around his waist before tying it off. The belt is the only concession he makes to his Gypsy heritage. He knows Pandora expects him to wear his saroules and salwar, but he hopes she will like this as well. Pulling on his knee boots, Ob stands and adjusts the tunic to hang just mid-thigh. Pulling his hair back into a loose braid, Ob opens the door to the high-pitched chatter of excited demifae.
Pandora stands before them, nodding at their voices. It takes him a few moments to understand what they are talking about. Chloe turns, hand still clutching a fold of her mother's dress. Her eyes light up and she runs to him. Absinthe launches from the bed's headboard and lands on his shoulder as he stoops to catch his daughter before she falls in her haste.
"Pa'pa! Pa'pa! Sooo pretty! Pa'pa... An Tor in dress!"
He stands, carefully so Absinthe doesn't slip and tear the fabric, and laughs at his daughter's bright emotions. He laughs even harder when Pandora turns and eyes widen at his clothes.