Becoming Drykas (Dymphna)

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sam trusted Dymphna not to outfit him to look like some sort of clown; she was too kind to have a laugh at his expense like that. He was glad to have the shirts taken care of, one baby step of accomplishment toward his goal, really. But at the mention of underwear, he blinked, and blushed, and considered running away. What kept him there was the fact that if he ran away with the shirts, he'd be branded a thief and that he could not abide. "New, um, socks for new... boots... I'll... I'll... I'll take care of the underwear later... I don't really... you know, have any... right now..." He looked away as if rethinking how terrible it would be to be branded a thief.

[Dymphna]

“Oh. Well.” She couldn’t help but glance down. Really. She couldn’t. And where her mind suddenly went caused her to turn pink in the face as she looked away. She gave a stunned blink. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the types of thoughts she’d just had, but typically not about someone she just met – No matter how cute she thought him to be. She cleared her throat, trying to recover, and looked up at him. “You go find socks and underwear. I’ll go pick out fabric for your pants,” she said quickly, scurrying off before he could say anything or protest.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sam quickly paid for the shirts, just in case he did have to run away. That done, his cheeks began to fade back to their normal state. He began to browse elsewhere for socks and underwear. A helpful woman took him in hand, garnering him two new pairs of socks and underwear, a heavier set for the upcoming winter, and a lighter set for warmer times. Once that was taken care of, he went in search of Dymphna and pants. Pants, he decided, were key. Especially now that he knew they wouldn't chafe. Yeouch!

[Dymphna]

Dymphna had spent that time gathering help from one of the women at the cutting table. She’d pointed back to Sam to show her his size, and the woman had helped her decide on how much fabric would be needed for pants. It felt a little strange picking out material for someone else. She didn’t really know much about him, but she did at least know a little about what clothing needed in order to survive the Drykas lifestyle. So she picked out 4 and a half yards of the softest wool she could find, and another of the same length in a sturdy linen for warm weather. She’d also picked up a sewing kit and the necessary accoutrements for taking up the skill to buy herself. She was just finishing when Sam started to approach. Looking up, she gave him a giant smile.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sam's expression when he approached was guarded. He had seen the women making gestures and looking at him frequently and for some reason he got the nagging suspicion they were guessing at the size of his endowment, but he was hoping that he was wrong. That was silly, after all! Why would they... be doing that...? "I found socks and underwear," he said quietly, not really wanting some stranger to know what he wore against his junk. He wasn't sure he wanted Dymphna to know either -- well, maybe -- but he wanted her to know at least that portion of their work was completed. "What's next?" he asked. Then, to the other woman, "Hello."

[Dymphna]

The older woman grinned and chuckled, studying the two carefully before saying in response, “Hello.” As she went off to find more work to do, Dymphna watched her go. She wasn’t sure she liked the way she’d just been looked at. Her brows furrowed, and she blinked. Shaking it off, she turned to hold out the two neatly folded lengths of fabric. “Your other pants, I suppose. I picked these out for non-leather pants for you.” She waited to make sure he didn’t hate them.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

His eyes squinted vaguely at the retreating woman, then gave the material Dymphna had chosen a closer look. It seemed good. He ran his fingers over the wool and then the linen, nodding in dubious approval. Hers was the opinion that mattered most, he thought, because she knew of what she spoke. If he could have made these purchases on his own and felt confident in his choices, he would have, and saved himself the vulnerability of having her along to see how clueless he was about things like this. Sam grinned at Dymphna. "You get your own live-sized dolly, huh?"

[Dymphna]

“Oh, I like it very much.” She grinned at him. “Though I’m not sure how I’ll feel when you’ve got a small flock of women vying for your attention and I’m forgotten.” It didn’t seem like she was teasing, but there wasn’t much heavy or jealous in her tone. It was just one of her random statements. She moved to take his hand, and started to walk with a giggle. “Come on, dolly.” She guided him across the way to the leather section. Looking around, she finally got to the pants. There she stopped, glancing at him to try to see if he wanted her to pick them out for him, too.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"I think you're exaggerating," he scolded, or almost scolded. He grinned a little bit too, though, because she kept alluding to his desirability as a mate. That was nice. He liked that. "You should try on some leather pants too," he said, innocently enough but for the burn to the edges of his ears. "You know, so you can tell me why certain things are better than others and I can actually see it..." He handed her a pair of ladies' leathers that were probably more for fun and play than for hard riding. Well, at least the hard riding one did with horses. Rather, the hard riding normal people did with horses.

[Dymphna]

“I’m not exaggerating. Everyone has a hidden talent. Mine happens to be able to spot good mates… Though it hasn’t gotten me anywhere.” She picked at a thread on her sleeve, quickly adding, “Not that I really care or anything. I mean, I’m…” She looked down at the pants he was holding out for her, realizing at that point that she’d started to ramble again. Amazingly she showed off her ability to rein herself in. She reached out to take the pants, letting them unfold as she held them up. Looking over them, it was her turn to scoff. He was going to get blisters if he wore something like the ones in her hand, but he should have at least known that. He was… “Oh. I wear split skirts for riding. They’re half-leather and half-linen. But…” Throwing the pants over her shoulder, she bent down, hiking up her skirt to expose tall boots. She looked up at him as she started to unlace them. “These would rub sores if I spent more than a few hours on Dara.” She carefully stepped her boot off then moved to the next, tucking her skirt up just so in order to hold some modesty – Though if Sam was looking he was getting quite a good view of the white flesh of her thighs. With the other boot off, she bent again to start working the pants on. “They may be just a bit tight, but they’d stretch to fit the form if I wore them enough…” She shifted, letting her skirt fall back down as she contorted to get the pants up over her rump and hips. Her tongue hit the corner or her lips as she twisted to tie them. Then finally she lifted up her skirts to give a view of what the silly things looked like on her. “See?” She turned slowly, looking over her shoulder at him.