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Post by Deleted on Nov 12, 2013 6:52:10 GMT -5
“Mamaaaaa!” Gavin called out as loud as he could, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet as he waited for his mother to appear in her costume. He was already dressed, clad in a homemade outfit that had been made to look like Godzilla – just the way that he had seen it in his favorite movie. His tail, thumping against the carpeted ground with his movements, was an added effect of being a morph. The five year old had proudly smeared green paint all over his face (all by himself, he might add!) in an effort to appear more reptilian, and had already amused himself by running around his home, roaring loudly at the top of his lungs.
The girls who worked for his mama had played along with him as they always did, pretending to be scared as he chased them around. He had laughed for hours. Gavin loved living here; he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
“Mama! I wanna go trick or treating! Can we go with big brother Chester?” He wandered closer to where his mother was getting dressed, peeking inside to see what she was doing. His tail wagged impatiently. The five year old simply could not wait any longer. It was his absolute favorite time of the year, and they were running out of time! What if people ran out of candy? The mere thought horrified Gavin. | |
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Post by Madame Sinatra Powell on Nov 17, 2013 6:39:50 GMT -5
Sinatra was very finicky about her costumes. She prided herself on her ability to create little masterpieces. When her son had insisted on being Godzilla, dashing all the costumes she had been working on for months, the green-haired woman had just smiled. What exactly could match the tyrant-lizard? There was not some sort of seductive reptile running beside the destroyer of Tokyo. It had taken her a few weeks to come to terms with his choice; only a small part of that was the ruining of all her fun. Some part of her had worried that such a costume might hurt his son; unlike many adults, who might be disturbed by his appearance, this seemed to be a sign that Gavin cared little for the teasing. For some reason, even while covered in scales, he looked far prettier to her in that costume than any other child in the universe. In fact, as he howled for her, Sinatra watched from the corner of the staircase.
Her boy may have a hard road before him, where shallow people refused to look deeper than skin, but she was confident he would be just fine. Fingers, tipped in silver nails, reached up to straighten her dress. The sparkles upon it cast light upon the wall. A few pins held her wig in place. Past her waist and curling, in a shade that matched her son’s paint-job rather well, her natural hair could just ruin the entire costume. Ebony in color, just past her chin, and straight as an arrow—resembling something out of the 1920s---Sinatra felt she had done a grand job. She would never understand parents who couldn’t loosen up once in a while. What was wrong with wearing a costume? Sinatra adored Halloween. Then again, even when a small child, dressing-up had been her favorite activity. Daddy’s work clothes, all that was in the house besides her own school-uniforms, lacked the flair of what she wore now.
Finally, unveiling herself, the madam took a few steps down the stairs. The entirety of her costume, including the paper-mache plane secured to the wig, was exhibited. The imprints of claws in its surface, from a certain little boy, were apparent in its wings. While out of place with everything else, as it looked a bit childish, it was the best part of the outfit. The rest of it left nothing to be ashamed of either. Studying catalogs for hours, and managing to get the computer to cooperate, Sinatra had done a bit of snooping. The result was a splendid little 1920s number; it sparkled with silver, tassles, and elegance. She plugged her ears against her son’s continuing cries. Her lips pulled upward into a small smile as she spoke: “Yes, yes, I’m coming; be patient you naughty little tyrant. Mama’s old bones don’t work as well as they once did. The girls kept interrupting momma while she was dressing too! They kept telling me about some big scary monster chasing them hither and yon. I can’t imagine why….” Full lips, which were currently a middle-shade of red, pulled up in the tiniest of smiles. Heels came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Her bag was straightened. A second bag, covered in pumpkins and other Halloween tropes, hung beside the purse.
When Chester was mentioned, bringing a smile to her face, Sinatra let her eyes go wide. Twitching downward, her lips formed a frown. She seemed confused for a moment; it gave the impression that Chester’s identity had completely escaped her.
Turning around, facing the small table with family pictures, she seemed to ponder this mysterious entity her son had mentioned. Her face looked as if she had been hit by a truck. Her palms lifted to cover her mouth in faux-horror as she continued to speak in her usual sing-song manner: “Chester…..Chester….oh no!! I know who you mean now. That blonde boy. Isn’t he a bit too old for trick-or-treating, Gavin? I mean he’s such a stick in the mud…” The last comment, while she loved her son, was meant in earnest. He had taken her liquor away earlier! It was just a tiny bit of wine before a night of fun. Wasn’t the 1920s all about prohibition after all? He was such a party pooper.
Staring at the few women nearby, all of whom were chuckling, amber eyes gave a playful wink. Reaching into her purse and plucking out her cellphone, which had a few numbers listed on it, the mother began to scroll. Finally, unable to keep up the charade, Sinatra began to laugh:: “I already called him! You should have seen those adorable little cheeks of yours! Momma gave him a costume too! He’s going to love it.“ In all truth, unless he wished to spend his night as a giant gorilla, Chester was going to despise the costume. It had been dropped off at his door with a little set of instructions. Hopefully, as she had beckoned him with a falsity, he did not mind a little trick-or-treating; she had claimed to be in need of a body guard.. Who could refuse, even smeared with green paint, Gavin’s baby blues? The door began to open. Sinatra practically glowed. “There he is! Oh look at him! Go get him Gavin!” Sinatra was a bit over-excited herself.
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Post by Chester on Nov 18, 2013 5:31:37 GMT -5
Halloween, a traditional time for costumes and candy, it was also well known for its horrors. People took the party nature of the holiday and twisted it, taking advantage and committing crimes while others were preoccupied. It didn't help that people insisted on staying true to the heart of halloween and performing the festivities as late as possible. Another tradition time for unsavory types. Needless to say, Chester was more on guard at this time of year then almost any other. Being his mother's personal body guard came with responsibilities.
Unfortunately for him, who only wanted to stay in tonight, they also came with 'perks.' The young man was greeted upon opening his door by an odd package. Chester had a sneaking suspicion he knew what it was, particularly when he had seen Gavin's costume. Likely something thematic, and upon opening the package his guess was confirmed. Fortunately for his sensibilities, it wasn't as garish as he feared it could have been.
And so it was that Chester greeted the rest of his family, bedecked in the costume of a movie monster. Or, at least the semblance of one. His black jacket and slacks were bedecked with short hairs, and the jacket was left open to show the dark gray shirt that had a hint of stomach muscles patterned on the front. Black leather gloves and a fuzzy black sock cap were added, his long blonde hair tucked up in the cap. Despite the small ears stitched to the cap to resemble that of a gorilla's, it passed muster. Around his face was a scarf, patterned on front with a snarling gorilla's snout. To finish of the ensemble, a small toy airplane was suspended over his head, and his weapon of choice was disguised as a skyscraper.
With his free hand, the bodyguard peeled away the mask and gave his foster brother a light smile. "Heya kid. You look mighty fearsome tonight." His glance jumped up to Sinatra, and his heart almost skipped a beat. Even with the paper mache' plane in her hair she looked stunning. He wagered that even with Gavin's addition to her costume, his caretaker would be attracting no few appreciative glances. The young man's cheeks tinged slightly pink, and he looked aside as he cleared his throat. "We ready to head out?"
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