Information


Gifyrra has a minion!

Spirit the Arctic Chirrup




Gifyrra
Legacy Name: Gifyrra


The Custom Glacier Tigrean
Owner: Chrysariel

Age: 6 years, 11 months, 1 day

Born: January 1st, 2016

Adopted: 6 years, 11 months, 1 day ago

Adopted: January 1st, 2016


Pet Spotlight Winner
August 19th, 2020

Statistics


  • Level: 98
     
  • Strength: 179
     
  • Defense: 10
     
  • Speed: 10
     
  • Health: 10
     
  • HP: 10/10
     
  • Intelligence: 714
     
  • Books Read: 706
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Couture Designer


The Glacier Tigrean

Gifyrra has a minion!

Spirit the Arctic Chirrup

Story


"I don't design clothes. I design dreams."
~Ralph Lauren~

"Fashion is about dressing according to what’s fashionable. Style is more about being yourself."
~Oscar de la Renta~

She'd been lucky to get an office not only paneled in rich walnut but directly connected to a workroom. Most of the designers in Subeautique either had to settle for the crowded work floor or resign themselves to desk jobs. It's not a corner office with a view of the city but she doesn't mind. One always needs heights to set their sights on if they want to rise.

Designers at Subeautique are few and elite for good reason. Nobody who shops at such a high-end store wants to settle for something that looks like it came out of Year 2.

Gifyrra oversaw the adaptations that would transform a human-compatible office into an ideal workspace for a glacier tigrean with big design dreams and the creative genius to put them to use. It is kept cold, and everyone that enters her office either sighs in relief or has to wear a heavy coat. All the walnut furniture is modified to suit her height perfectly. Her desk is spacious with a shiny surface often buried beneath sketches, swatches of fabric, and various buttons ranging from more traditional red circles to a handful of cream skulls left over from a Morostide project. A smaller desk in the corner serves the needs of Sergio, the most qualified assistant a rising star of a designer could wish for, and he was born in Arctic Frost.

The credenza behind her desk is a safe space for Spirit, her Arctic chirrup minion. He has choices. There is a sturdy perch between the credenza and the window, or a cabinet devoted completely to him complete with a fat violet cushion perfect for midday naps. Spirit could open and close the door by gripping one of the tassels tied to the handles. Gifyrra's minion is her darling, plucked from the snowy dark forest of Alpendale by Melody on one of their frequent walks and presented to Gifyrra when she fell in love at a glance. Spirit can be shy around eccentrics like Esmerelda but he is well loved by the minor designers who come to consult with Gifyrra regularly, winning them over with her bright eyes and her habit of affectionately nudging the legs of those she decides are friends. Spirit only flies to the perch in the office or workroom and back when indoors or to Gifyrra's shoulder when they are coming from or going home. Otherwise he walks.

Above the credenza is a beautiful lakeside painting of crystal water ringed by mountains. It took Gifyrra months to save up the coin required for the services of AutumnMoon, but the price she'd paid was worth an image that seemed so real she could sometimes swear she heard the gentle lapping of water on the lake's edge on quiet evenings.

Gifyrra's nose is nearly touching the surface of her desk as she bends over a sketch that is almost complete. She loves the way the subtle candy stripes of the design turned out but there is something about the cut of the shoulders that doesn't please her. It just isn't quite right yet. Perhaps a tweak here and just a hint of curve there...

After a half-hour of continuous work, she sets the design aside with a sigh. Sometimes a piece just needs to sit while the finer details click together in the back of the designer's mind. This is looking like one of those times. She moves onto a ruby ball gown that she wants to have ready next month for the Masquerade Ball.

Sergio stands patiently beside the corner of her desk as she sketches in a layer of lace at the sleeves. He does not mind waiting to be noticed.

Gifyrra gives her whiskers a twitch, pleased at the finished product. She notices Sergio at last, laying the sketch down for his opinion. "I'm trying to determine color options. The last few years have seen an influx of gemstone-inspired colors but I thought to get away from gold and emerald, though a nice red gown is a staple of any Masquerade line."

The manchu frowns over the gown for a moment. "Personally, I've always wished to see more orange dresses on the dance floor. A little vibrant color would bring out the beauty of some of the pale masks." He grins at Gifyrra's skeptical look. "You know what a radical I can be with my opinions. What about a more subtle shade like seafoam? It's almost never been done in ball gowns and with the right sea glass necklace your design would score some major sales from Omen Island visitors."

Gifyrra nods. "Now that is a color theme with some potential."

Sergio's grin reveals spotless white teeth. "I've been known to have a good idea or three. For my second great suggestion, might I recommend a lunch run? That new shop over on Third Avenue is supposed to have cuisine that combines the eco-friendly vibe of Veggikumora with the sweet and savory flavors of Get Mugged."

Gifyrra's thoughts are already turned to the next design. "Just make sure I don't so much as see one of those nasty oatmeal cranberry cookies this time."

She doesn't even realize Sergio is laughing as he heads out. Her loathing for all things oatmeal is a joke around the office, the kind told in a friendly way.

Spirit comes forward to lean against her mistress' chair, begging for a pat on the head. Gifyrra is never too busy to give her minion a little love. It takes her a few moments to notice when her hand starts patting empty air. Spirit always hides when Esmerelda enters the room.

"Gifyrra, darling, have you heard the news?" There is an edge to Esmerelda's voice that tells Gifyrra this is not a tale of Subeautique's stocks doubling in price. She gives up on a lilac and gold suit to grant Esmerelda her full attention.

"How even an intern could be so careless is beyond me, but just look at that horrible sight." Esmerelda plops the latest issue of the Subeta Examiner down on Gifyrra's desk. Next to a caption about the warador mutants building a death ray on the dark side of Atebus is an image of the worst sketch she's ever seen. The creature looks something like a cross between a scribble pet being stepped on and the first crayon doodles of a chibi pet that has not yet mastered how to draw with a pencil. This caption is in bold red letters, blaring out "Subeautique Scribble Experiment: What Really goes on in the World of High Fashion."

"Don't even bother to read the article, dear. It's a load of trash, written by that atrocious mudslinger Quinivus Quilltip."

Esmerelda's dislike for the terracoon who would do anything for a story was well-known. Quinivus had even tried to sneak into Maleria's private chambers once, earning himself the nickname of "Snapped Quill" for the notch he'd received on his left ear.

Gifyrra looks at the sketch in disgust. Though the name of the intern is not familiar to her, she feels no less responsible for what has happened. She is on the panel of designers that goes through the entries in intern applications. The impostor must have worked very hard to get through the frosted glass doors of Subeautique, likely stealing designs from some poor young artist who would leap at the chance for a meal outside the Donation Center. It was disgusting what some would do for their fifteen minutes of fame.

"She's not assigned to my office but I will ask around, see if any of my contacts know where to find her. I assure you that this liar won't find the time to spend whatever Quilltip paid her."

Esmerelda nods and departs. She expects no less.

A round of fruitless phone calls leaves Gifyrra cranky as she nibbles the sandwich left on her desk, not taking the time to think whether she is eating tuna or chicken salad.

She does perk her ears at the sound of small objects striking the surface of the glass bowl on her desk. Sergio pours a small amount of his secret stash of candy hearts. He always knows when his boss needs a little sweetening. Candy hearts are that one secret food that can pull Gifyrra from her darkest mood.

She smiles and pops a pink heart into her mouth as Spirit returns to gently rub her leg. The perfect shape for that candy-striped outfit springs into her mind and she is scrambling through the papers on her desk, bringing the sketch to the top. She murmurs a word of thanks to Sergio and returns to gently stroking Spirit as her free hand dances over the page, tweaking the design into a work of perfection.

Credits



Code by: Ringo
Buttons Created Using: Button Generator
Edited by: Chrysariel
Story by: Pureflower
Redone/Recolor of Overlay by:
Chrysariel and Necolasa
Blue Cat Eyes by: kisspng
Background Image by: Pixabay
Name by: Chrysariel

use

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