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34. She figures it out... sort of.

33. Might Be Too Late

32. Infiltration

31. Back in the Shop

30. The Guest of Honor

29. arriving at the next stop.

28. Stop Watch

27. terrible pun warning...

26. Friendly Conversation

25. Brendien reacts to the gentlem

24. An Older Gentleman

23. Brenden needs a carriage of hi

22. Brenden and Eleanor Leave

21. social situation.

20. The Conversation

19. back in the shop...

18. Sitting Down

17. Brendon joins up.

16. Learning Something New

15. Brendon needs to make a pit st

Parasol: Progress?

on 2012-08-12 08:23:11

952 hits, 62 views, 0 upvotes.

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Mary visualized the lavish party scene she saw on the screen, pressing the button desperately. At first she expected nothing, but then a humming sound came, and with a flash both she and the shopkeeper disappeared from the shop entirely, leaving the peculiar store empty for the time being.

As Mary and the shopkeeper hurtled back in time, Briendiere was basking in the increasing amount of attention an respect he was receiving. Everyone he talked to seemed utterly charmed by what he had to say, and he noticed a few people whispering about him as he walked past. He could enter any conversation and immediately have the attention of all included, and his word was final. Anyone who disagreed were given a coy insult or a casual disparaging remark. Briendiere adored it.

The former boy had continued to change as the party went on, physically as well as societally. He now looked to be in his early thirties, and his body had put on a little weight around the hips, buttocks, thighs, and chest. His lips had gained a coating of red to match the bow that tied his ever growing black locks, and ruby earrings now hung from his ears. His facial features were hardly that of a young boy anymore, with cheekbones gaining pronouncement and eyelashes and lips flourishing as his nose and eyebrows became more subtle.

On instinct, Briendiere excused himself from the party, entering an adjoining sitting room. The side room was currently empty, save for an older woman and a man, both dressed in the most peculiar apparel. It didn't occur to Briendiere that he himself still wore similar clothes, though they now showed hints of changing to something more appropriate of his new setting and station.

The peculiar woman gaped at Briendiere. "Brandon? Brandon is that you?" she asked, in a most forward manner.

Briendiere scoffed at the address. "Excuse me, but I am Brinediere Bramose, not this Brandon of which you speak," he said, in his new voice, a silky voice of a mature woman with a crisp English accent and superb diction for the times.

The uncouth woman opened her mouth to speak, only to frown and stop. Brinediere blinked, wondering what had given this peculiar woman pause.




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