Information

Endearing has a minion!

Schnookums the Speckled Tacak

Endearing
Legacy Name: Endearing

The

Sweetheart Jollin
Owner:

Scribe

Age: 14 years, 1 month, 2 weeks

Born: March 20th, 2010

Adopted: 14 years, 1 month, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: March 20th, 2010

Statistics

Level: 21
Strength: 49
Defense: 40
Speed: 21
Health: 20
HP: 20/20
Intelligence: 111
Books Read: 108
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Stylist

“Siiiraaa!” There was a pleading tone in the antlephore’s voice, and she could hear his hooves clopping closer on the tile floor. Kitsira sighed.“Wha-aaat?” she sing-songed back.“Aren’t you ready yet?”“No. Just another minute.”

“You said that five minutes ago!”

“You are such a hypocrite. You kept five-minutes-ing for half an hour on Tuesday.”

“Yeah, but...I was knitting. And we were just visiting your mom. I’m hungry, Sira.”

Kitsira rolled her eyes at the mirror before resuming the careful application of inky black Sui eyeliner. Delphius just didn’t understand. She blinked a few times, examining her reflection critically before thickening the dark line infinitesimally. He was thinking with his stomach, and he never gave two sP for his own appearance. She wrinkled her nose, twitched her whiskers, and put the Sui pencil down. Should she use the matching Sui shadow, or maybe a MaiShadow, or....

“It’s been a minute.”

“Oh shut up!”

Huffing into her whiskers, she slapped on some smoky MaiShadow, curled her lashes, coated them with mascara, and glared into the mirror. Delphius was just thinking about the fancy desserts. Didn’t he understand that the Libertine Lounge was about seeing beautiful elegant people and being seen by beautiful judgmental people? She sighed. Their fancy brownie was pretty good.

“Come on. Our reservation is for eight and it’s already seven thirty.”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming. Wait, where’s my ribbon?”

Without a word, Delphius reached over with one careful hoof and flicked Kitsira’s tail, which was adorned by a perfectly tied white sweetie ribbon.

“Oh. Okay, I guess I’m ready.”

“Okay.”

“Delphius!”

“What?” Startled, Delphius hurriedly backed away and abruptly sat down on the floor, legs splayed awkwardly. Kitsira stamped one paw as she looked him up and down. “What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t you comb your fur at all?”

“Of course I did!” He blushed and dipped his head so he could paw at his nose. “...This morning.”

“We aren’t leaving until you brush it again, so you had better hurry.”

She dabbed on some diamond scented perfume while she waited, ran a critical eye over Delphius when he emerged, and nodded her approval.

“Very nice. Are you going to wear that scarf you knit last weekend? Yes, there--let me tie it--ah! So handsome. Now let’s get going before they give away our table.”

Two hours later, very full of dinner and cocktails and waiting for dessert to arrive, Kitsira excused herself from the table for a moment. It was exquisite, exhausting, and excruciating—all at once and in equal measure—to sit through dinner with a big clumsy antlephore beside her. As the door to the powder room shut behind her, she admitted that it wasn’t just Delphius that had her on edge. Everyone was just so...so...watchy. The popoko at the table near the door had definitely been looking down her nose at them all evening, and she thought she’d caught a few untoward glances from a waiter. A waiter! She took a deep breath and looked into the mirror.

“Remember, Sira. This is fun, right?” She fluffed out her tail, adjusted the bow, and took a long drink from the dainty drinking flask she kept in her handbag. She flashed herself a smile and a dramatic wink. So what if the popoko's tail was more luxuriant? “Right!”

It took her a few tries to open the door on the way out of the powder room, but she concentrated hard and made it back to the table without weaving or wobbling very much, and she definitely did not fall down.

“Excuse me.” She smiled and tapped a passing waiter on the wrist. “Please, could you bring me another Woowoo when you get a chance? And, ah, make it a double. Thanks ever so.”

Around ten the next morning—though she couldn’t quite make out the bedside clock since she had shoved it away when the alarm went off at some ungodly single-digit hour—Kitsira finally crawled out of bed. She was an absolute wreck. There were bags under her eyes and her fur was matted and everything was awful. She slid the dimmer switches down to almost-off, smeared some cream on her face, and went to pour herself a little pick-me-up.

“A little early, isn’t it? Are you done packing already?”

The neck of the whiskey bottle hit the rim of the coffee mug abruptly, slipped from her paw, and made a great deal of noise. Sira managed to catch the bottle before it rolled off the counter, but there was a tawny sheen everywhere except in the mug. She slammed the bottle down and whirled to face Delphius. He was ensconced in his rocking chair, rocking and knitting unconcernedly, a box of gumdrops and his own steaming mug on the table beside him. Sira growled softly and turned back around, slowly mopping up the spilled elixir.

“Never heard of the hair of the dog that bit you?” She clenched her paw around the towel and frowned. She wasn’t packed at all and they were leaving the next day.

“I always figured it was better to stay away from anything that bites. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t, really. She silently cursed him for knitting so quietly and for the rocking chair not squeaking loudly enough to alert her. When the counter was clean, she sloshed more alcohol than coffee into her mug, topped it off with a splash of cream, and stalked back into her bedroom to pack.

“Our cabins are non-refundable, Delphius. We’ll get you some medicine if you get sea sick, but I’m sure you won’t. It’ll be fun!” Del ducked his head and rubbed his nose with one big hoof. Kitsira patted his shoulder and smiled reassuringly. Their bags were next to the door, and they were supposed to head down to the dock in ten minutes. It was far too late to back out now! “And I really think we’ll be too busy, but I take back what I said last week; you can take your knitting with you.”

He smiled back, looking a bit abashed. “It’s already packed.”

As it turned out, it was Kitsira who was seasick through most of the cruise, not Delphius. While he sprawled on a chaise longue on deck and made...tea cozies or whatever...Sira was rolling around on the floor of the tiny box the cruise line tried to pass off as a bathroom. The only thing seemed to settle her stomach was a stiff drink, but at least that meant she was able to appear every night in the Ambassador’s renowned restaurant, drink in hand. She really had to cake on the under-eye concealer some evenings, but it was worth it. It. Was. Worth it.

Until the last night of the cruise, at least.

She was on her fourth sparkling champagne and she might have had a frostberry vodka or two before dinner, and the waiter brought out the salad. Two bites, and all of that champagne, vodka, cheese, and artichoke soup came right back up. In front of everyone! She wasn’t sure if she turned scarlet or deathly pale, but in any case, she fled. When she got to her cabin, she realized she’d forgotten her handbag with the cabin key still inside. Unable to face the onlookers, she sat down on the floor, miserable, until Delphius came along with her bag slung over one antler.