#baronyofthesilverwolf

Art, who has been casually playing with Button on the floor, rolling beads to the little bear or tickling it's tummy, looks up. "Looking good!" He says, though it's hard to tell, right now it still looks like a magnet pulled over the remnants of a Radio Shak dumpster. Maybe just being polite?

Gwen squints at it, "It looks ... unique."

She grumbles. "Gotta get the function set before refinin' form."

"The motto of my fashion choices," She mutters

SNORT.

"Now that is makin' excuses."

"You have achieved function. And totally neglected style. We could address that. I mean, you do represent the Barony, yeah?"

"Ouch, hey," She says, that one stung past her stone skin, "I represent it as a knight and kennel mistress, not a tour guide."

She pauses, in truth she often does get tasked with guiding folks around the place, but still, D'Lorean does it more often.

"Still. You could do it with more'n jeans and plaid."

"Maybe something Viking-chic? Viking seems to work for trolls."

"Well, huh, yeah, I'm more Native chic but viking fits too, celtic because of the house. I guess I do have a lot of choices. Plaid? Won't that make me look like, I don't know, a DeBuke farm girl?"

She taps her chin. "Point. Beads."

She laughs "Okay, Beads. But nothing that looks like a skittle," Gwen looks out the window at the carnage of Nevers after they took her candy, "That would be like the most embarrassing death EVER."

A soft snicker.

A whisper while Art is distracted, "So, I know he's a sidhe so anything looks good on him , but what fashion advice would you have for Art there?"

Art, at the moment, is currently wearing a older hand-me-down button up top, which is buttoned incorrectly with one missed along the way, and jeans that look a little too tight. Not in the way that fashion moguls style them, but as if he hasn't realized he needs to update his closet.

Of course, he makes it look good without even trying. And clearly, he's not trying.

A sigh. "Oh, I could dress him so well."

Citrine buzzes past, and makes a chiming comment that somehow sounds naughty.

At least, to Thistle, who has a special ear for such things.

"Well," She whispers "We could work on getting him some clothes as gifts that YOU like. and would look good on him."

(Thistle, of course, is sporting an elaborately tailored set - a complicated vest in a mix of stripes and brocades over a linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her knee-breeches sport what look to be custom-made ceramic buttons on the cuffs.

"...true."

Now, Art's voile is probably something nicer. But still, he doesn't seem to take care of his clothes. It's just not a priority!

Gwen is wearing blue jeans, a green work shirt, and..well, she's just solid on solid right now. Her clothes are a bit dull. Fortunately her armor and voile are more ornate but no surprises here.

A nod and Gwen ponders Art. There are times even SHE has to catch her breath at the sidhe, but she looks more to imagine him in a nocker style outfit, and mutters low "He might end up looking like a sexy Willy Wonka... Gene Wilder version meets young Zac Efron."

"I mean, Timothee Chalamet did the thing."

"Inferior movie, but vibes."

"Yeah, can't fault that part of it," nod, "or maybe something like a Newt Scamander who got a glow up?"

Oh, those spirals are glowing coral-pink right now. "I mean, sure. But they're still not quite there."

"mmm.. One of the Doctor Who outfits? I mean, you like Sci-Fi, he likes Sci-Fi, gives you baseline to make suggestions?" Gwen still keeps her voice low. Man Art can hyperfocus on his work at times.

"Could at least fix his buttons." She harrumphs, but her tone is fond.

"Idjit."

The troll snerks, then whispers "You could just reach over and adjust them for him now and then, gives you an excuse and I bet he'd end up liking it."

"M'not his mom."

Gwen rolls her eyes and mutters "Not what I meant, grooming each other is a ... sign of affection in a lot of creatures, and people too."

Citrine chooses this time to dive down Art's shirt collar, eliciting a "YARP!" sound of surprise

"Like birds, huh?"

"Ey! Yella-Bella!"

"What the... stop that! That tickles!" Art tries not to double over or slap at his shirt as one might with the proverbial bee in their bonnet!

Finally it occurs to him to pull at the shirt, a few buttons pulling loose and another popping free, and Citrine is free!

And Art's shirt is hanging half off his form. At least it's a hot day?

Thistle clicks her tongue. "Sorry. Sometimes I think her little brain short-circuits." The nocker crosses over. "Let me help?"

"Aw, my buttons." He says, even as Citrine darts off smugly. "I wonder what that was about!"

Gwen goes troll stoic and lets this unfold without butting in now that it is happening. I am The wall the guards. The wall does not move. The wall does not judge. The wall does not go 'awwww' at cute romantic scenes between friends

He gives Thistle a grin as he kneels to collect a few errant buttons, and accepts her offer of help. "Do you think you can fix it? It's worn out, but Mother said no new clothes until back to school shopping. Apparently we all grow too fast.

"I can fix it." She holds out her hands for the shirt and buttons. "Y'know, you totally shot up like a weed these past few months."

"Maybe we could, like, hit the goodwill? Bit of paint and patchwork, can make thrift stuff look cool."

He pulls off the shirt - his shoulders have broadened a touch, but he will always be slender - Scrawny, compared to a troll, of course - but the hem IS also at least half an inch too short for him.

"I'd bow to your expertise. I admit to being at a loss as to what is considered "cool".

A sharp grin. "S'fine, you don't need to chase that."

"Baroness Nadeen had her handmaiden measure me for updated voile, but I didn't want to bother her about mundane affairs. After all, I was touched she took the time to worry about me at all, considering the way Marigold is hounding her." Amused. "I suppose even in her busiest time, the lady of the manor needs to ensure we all give the right appearance."