kassandra,

but this woman, this who is agonized here--

The east sea and west sea rhyme on in her head for ever instead.

All the world was abuzz with the inevitability of Ira’s coronation. It was something heavy and imminent and unavoidable, like seeing distant and unfavorable relatives at a gathering. But, in true Denoctian fashion, there was less a hum of excitement and more a tightening, squeezing of cheeks to prepare for some awful taste, and the air became full with the grinding of teeth as the community pinned it’s courage to the sticking place and put their heads down to thunder though the winds of celebration.

Kassandra was no exception. In her sleepless midnight wanderings she watched the volunteers flitter about, setting up shop for Ira’s big to-do, adding extra lanterns to a sky already occluded by the paper constructs, and filling the town square with effigies of amethyst wolves, moons, and stars, all symbols of Caligo that once filled Kass with such pride; now they simply made her heart hurt.

At her side, her faithful hound watched her head hang lower and lower as the night went on.  They paused in front of a wicker billboard plastered with notices and party invites.

i think a little party would do us some good, Oculos said as he came out of a comfortable stretch.

Kass mulled the words over like something she expected to taste foul but was actually liking.

“You know, I do think you may be right,” she finally allowed, head rising a bit, ballooned by the energy of a tired smile.

see? Oculos winked. i have good ideas. you should listen to me more. but it is a masquerade party, he said, sounding bitter, and we don’t have anything… fancy… to wear.

“I do know how to sew, you know,” Kassandra said, threading an indignant sniff into her voice. She led them back towards the market. “Lady Zair was my tutor.” She squinted an eye. “She was always afraid to give me needles because she was certain I would try and stab her eyes out with them so I only got to practice when she left.”

One trip to the Night Market to peruse materials later and Kas set up with a sewing pattern, yards of black tuille, gray satin, and thick cotton with a fine, white beaded ornamentation sewn into it. It was a simple gown, with a gathered neckline and floating sleeves. The pattern called for a gathered waist but Kass was neither petite nor gentle, and so when she stepped into it ripped with a horrible noise and sent beads scattering everywhere. She was surprised when she looked into the mirror and saw the massive tear over her back actually looked flattering, though it did little for hiding her identity from any who may know her.

When she accidentally stepped on the beads and shattered them, inspiration struck; the scattered fragments looked like little stars. She happily went about fracturing the rest of the beads, turning them into galaxy patterns so that they might dance and shimmer on the fabric when it moved.

She was most proud of the mask. Scale-like sections of gray satin hand sewn together and pinned to a blackened veil. Oculos snagged some of it on his claws and accidentally shredded it, inspiring Kas to do the same for the rest of the edges. The antlers, by most opinions runty things, were purchased from a hunting outfitter.

Oculos glared at her through unimpressed, half-lowered eyelids as she affixed the bone structures to her mask with lots of glue. i hate you. Kass did not deign a reply, but she was smiling like a maniac.

The euphoria lasted right up until the start of the party itself, wherein Kas found herself standing on the edge of a swarm of strangers, all bedecked, in some fashion or another, in intricate masks, costumes, and paint. She swallowed hard and her courage crumbled, the dress which once brought her so much pride now beginning to feel a bit like a ruffle-collared noose.

Oculos, whose smaller mask matched his owner (sans the antlers; he would rather die than wear the antlers) poked her with his long nose to give her some strength. c’mon, Kas, he said, taking tiny steps forward to urge her onward, it’s just a party. And no one’s even gonna know who you are. ideally.

She swallowed again, her mouth dry. “I-- highly doubt that. But.” Her tail lashed in agitation. Where had this social fear come from? She had never been a cultured society lady, and had a penchant for bumbling into communal spaces and being a giant, living faux pas. Why was she suddenly so scared? Why did she care?

Her heart calmed, and she realized instantly, she didn’t. Breathing regulated, she flicked her ears forward and fixed her companion with a look of renewed vigor.

“Let’s find the snack table,” she said, and his mouth split open in an excited, toothy grin.