//Closed//Discovering the gardens

Lia was practically fumbling about the whole school campus unsure of where to go and her stomach was starting to growl. Biting at her luscious lips she noticed a lovely fenced in area filled with flowers and trees. Her eyes grew in amazement of its beauty. It was like this place was hidden off unlike all the other buildings and places she had noticed as she walked around.

Walking slowly up to the rusted iron gate that held the place sectioned off, her hands resting gently at her sides until she reached it. Placing them carefully on them as if the gate would break beneath her gentle hands, her eyes still gaping at the area before her. Her wings lifting in excitement of a discovery of her own. It was probably well known to others, but it was new to her and the fact she found it alone only excited her more. A gentle breeze would flick her curly red hair about her shoulders and her baggy clothing hung about her and blew with the wind, showing her curvy figure momentarily only to flop down once it stopped.

With a nod to herself as well as a few words in mind she presses the gate open and enters, Her white boots clicking softly against the broken tiles placed as a walkway for the garden. Although it was un-kept it was still rather lovely. How it held itself together as nature always does, without human's help, doing it alone and showing its true strength. The tiles having brken by wild flowers bursting through the stonery, flowers growing taller than normal and trees blooming with bright colors. Her eyes were stunned and as she stood there in the entranceway she couldn't seem to move herself. It was too beautiful to take it all in.

Inside the balmy green house, the leaves of a single tree rustled but there was no wind within the glass confines of the structure. Black strings as silent as serpents slithered across the rough bark, disturbing the leaves so that the stirred and whispered. In an instant, the threads rejoined one another in a tight ball and then exploded outward, further shaking the leaves, and then as they constricted again, they did so on the form of a man, dressing him in a black suit as he lounged in the bough of the tree. Brown eyes, darker than the bark of his perch, peered out from beneath the shadows of a top hat’s brim as the Puppeteer surveyed his new surroundings.

Bit by bit, he was exploring the school. He would send tendrils out to discover places of interest before using them as a beacon on which to home in on when he teleported. The final jump had landed him in a rather comfortable natural niche. As he sprawled across a framework of branches, the still living timber gave a gentle groan but supported him.

What caught his eye though was not any of the vegetation within the oasis, but the nymph that stood within the doorway. A Cheshire grin split his lips when he noticed how her clothing hung about her feminine frame about as well as a sack. The fairer sex always desired better clothing, and better clothing always came at a price, and he hoped she might be willing to pay his fee. Still hidden in the greenery of the tree, he waited for her to enter the aromatic greenhouse.

The door would slowly be blown closed behind her, bumping her forwards slightly, and falling to her hands and knees her wings extended upwards helping her with balance so she wouldn't have her face in the dirt before her. Gasping, the door would close fully behind her with a click. Her heart thudded against her chest at the random acts of the wintery winds. Breathing slowly out of her puckered lips to calm her heart, she looked up and all around, figuring the wind was what caused the tree to move before her. Pushing herself up and dusting her hands off, the dark colored dirt falling from her hands.

Her white shirt and blue shorts were easily seen as being of males. Too baggy and not at all clinging to her as her original clothing in her room would hold to her. They were like gym clothes really, though her lovely knee high white boots with their red spirals didn't exactly flow with the gym style apparel she wore. She had only one pair of boots that matched her dress and without a job, she had no money to go to the store for another. Also, Lia wasn't very materialistic, but always welcomed help from others as long as she was able to help them in return.

She could never take without giving back. It was against her being to do so. Seeing that she was still fine and no scratches were made, she peered around the garden again, still amazed at the place and how well the plants continued to grow.

The Puppeteer quirked an eyebrow and shifted in the bough of the tree to get a better vantage point by which to view the unusual creature that had trespassed into the green house. Her wings caught his eye the most, the most peculiar thing about her, besides her poor choice in clothing. Oh, I must have her, trilled the Puppeteer’s thoughts as he admired her. Though the clothing certainly won’t do.

It struck the Puppeteer as odd that while her boots were so fine, and they truly did appear to be of great quality, and fit well, that the rest of her attire was not just garish but ill-proportioned for her body. While it would only take a moment to properly tailor the clothing to fit her frame, the Puppeteer wanted to do far more than just adjustments. An entirely new outfit was needed, and if the rest of her clothes were similar, an entire wardrobe.

As she neared the Puppeteer’s hiding spot, he shifted and slipped from the branches of the tree. The soles of his leather shoes met the paved math with a muted thud as he bent his knees for the impact. A moment later, he straightened his legs and stood his full height, even if it was a few inches shy of six foot. “Good afternoon,” greeted the Puppeteer. Despite having just dropped from a tree, with its many snagging branches, his clothes and even his top hat looked none the worse or even wrinkled by the descent. He clutched in his left hand a simple black cane topped with a silver bulb and a silver cap on the bottom.

Looking up and over to him as he spoke out to her, her emerald green eyes would look over his form. Not sure at first glance if he were trouble... a student.. a teacher.. or something else. She would come off as hesitant and look away from him momentarily for a direction to run in. She wasn't a fighter at heart, and knowing that one person here at this school knew what type of person she was, the facts would end up going throughout the place sooner or later... and yet again things would most likely end badly for them.

"H-hi.." It would have been rude of her to not respond in case he were a gentleman, but she still wasn't sure what he knew and what he would do. Her wings were fully out in the open and folding them tightly to her body, she could only stand there and wait. Her hands were fidgety at her sides, grasping at her shorts only to release them and repeat. Her nails were cleanly made and shined, and where the shorts stopped only gave way to her lower portion of her legs, showing that they were at the least thin and nothing but muscle. Her arms were tiny compared to the sleeves of the shirt as well. She was a fragile creature, but with strengths in other ways. Ways she knew might not help her at the moment.

Trouble was probably the best way to describe the Puppeteer since he wasn’t linked to the school by any direct means. The only reason that he even stayed at Caislin Hallows was because of the threat of the woman who had released him from the tomb, and if he was at full strength, not even her promise of sealing him back up would hold water with him.

The Puppeteer loosed a soft chuckle when he heard the stutter in her greeting, noticed the nervous twitch of her fingers. Oh, how good it feels to inspire fear again, he reveled. Only the small smirk the split his lips would reveal his pleasure, though the source would still be his secret.

“Hm, I think I’ll just go ahead and fix this,” muttered the man as he waggled his fingers. While his digits danced their jig, the threads of her clothing writhed across her skin like hundreds of tiny serpents. New threads slithered between the weave of her shirt, slowly replacing the strands until none of the original garment remained and her new one was of the softest satin. The hem of the transforming shirt dribbled down her body, smoothing over her hips and rump until it pooled just above her knees, leaving a thin ring of bare flesh between it and her boots. With every step, the new garment would flare faintly and drift back into place around her thighs like a cloud on a gentle wind. Meanwhile, the front of her neckline melted away until just a smidgeon of cleavage was revealed between the swells of her mostly covered breasts. The back of the shirt dissolved in a similar fashion, baring her shoulders on down to the small of her back, leaving only the half-ring of the shirt’s neck on her nape to support the weight of the finished gown. With much of her skin bared suddenly by his magic, the air of the greenhouse would rush in to caress it—and despite its warmth, the sudden nakedness might give her a chill enough to inspire goose bumps. Once the dress was finished, the shorts she wore dissipated in a mist of threads that drifted out from beneath the gown before vanishing altogether. “Ah, much better, don’t you agree?”

She almost freaked out with how her clothing started to change before her eyes. Her wings unfolding quickly in panic as if ready to fly away, but something.. someone told her to stay. Ligiatha was awake. Her voice echoed in her mind soothingly yet with that twinge of evil in her voice. "Don't move.. I want to see what happens..." Instantly Lia started to shake her head as the threads continued to move about her form, fearing that her body would become seen she raised her arms and moved them about but it seemed like nothing helped. She wanted to run, her heart was beating quickly as fear grew within her. Ligiatha continuously asking her to stay.

As the dress appeared before her eyes, quite lovely in fact, she started to calm down. Ligiatha growled within her head, only wishing she could have a dress as well if this man was a clothes maker. She was becoming jealous and Lia could feel the heat rising between her and herself. Her face was red from blushing and as she gently smoothed her hands along the soft fabric she couldn't re-frame from smiling.

Her voice was calmer, more musical like, soft and bouncy. "It's beautiful... thank you.. though you didn't have to do that. Riley gave me the clothes because all I had was my one dress... I was going to repay him back when I fond a job.. well... when my sister and I find one." Looking up quickly, hoping she didn't speak too much, fear entering her eyes again she'd wait for his response. Though Ligiatha was now pursuing the chance to have her ask for him to make one for her as well... one more... sinister if possible. Prying at her mind, the fear would lower and she sighed. "I know that by your creations... my sister would become jealous that I have a new dress and not she... if she were to get one out of you... a more... dark version.... or opposite than mine.... would you be able to do it?" Her hope to hide her sister being inside her mind was getting rather hard with Ligiatha yelling for her to pursue this opportunity.

The Puppeteer took delight in the way the satin contoured to her curves, fitting as snuggly as a glove on her frame. Pride was one of his greatest vices, and he partook in it often. Her thanks was disregarded, though he listened to her. The telling of her story sparked his curiosity, evident by the lofting of a thin brown eyebrow so that it almost vanished into the shadows cast by the brim of his hat.

At first, the Puppeteer was a little insulted that she dared to ask for another outfit. The irritation soon faded though because he knew the request was a concealed compliment. Clucking his tongue, the Puppeteer gave a nod. “I suppose I could. But I’ll need to know her… proportions,” explained the man, outlining a perfect hourglass shape in the air with his hands. “Tailor can’t work without measurements.” How was he to know that her ‘sister’ was lurking inside her and that they probably were identical? Already though, he was imagining an outfit that might suit her sister that was, as she requested, the opposite of the one he’d just fashioned.

Thinking a moment as Ligiatha seemed to fight her from within to get out and allow him to see her proportions, thinking and telling her loudly that Lia may have given him the wrong idea, that she in fact was not fat, but would prefere black and red compared to the pure white he gave her. Looking down with a worried look she shook her head as she thought inside her mind to tell Ligiatha she didn't want her to come out. That it would be a wrong idea, though Ligiatha never seemed to care about their secret and this showed very well on their first day here. Ligiatha was too weak at the time to allow Lia any chance of holding off.

Biting at her lower lip she mumbled out to him inaudibly, only to realize quickly she needed to speak up. Her eyes slowly scanning him over as she finally takes in his full appearance, rather than the fact he seemed like a shadow to her. "My sister is the same size in every factor as myself. Though her heels tend to be a bit tall.. so she likes things that flow lower than I. Right now.. she has a white gown almost like the one I have in my room... but she prefers red or black... or both..." She grumbled the second slightly annoyed by Ligiatha's push. She didn't like asking this new stranger for help that they didn't need, and in the back of her mind, she could only wonder how she could repay him for both dresses. Ligiatha needed to stop using people for their services and to not use her sister either. But, this is Lia, and Ligiatha is her sister.. to deny your sister could hurt her feelings and that, in the end, would bother Lia til she gave in. Biting her lip she sighed as her plea was done.

"I would really appreciate it if you would make her one. She's a bit of a...hard person to deal with and if I go back to my room with a new dress, she would expect me to have one for her, which I can't blame her... but it's not like I paid for this... and... I do have to ask.. what could I do to repay you for both? It.. it's wrong to accept something without giving in return."

“Oh, twins then?” asked the Puppeteer with a slight cock of his head. His top head, despite the slant of his neck, remained perched on the nest of brown hair on which it rested, even if it was slightly askew itself. “Well, hold still then,” instructed the Puppeteer as he wiggled his fingers again. While he already knew her measurements just from having made the dress for her, he enjoyed the ghostly tactile sensation he got from manipulating the threads on her body. The satin tightened, constricting across her bosom and bottom like a gentle groping hand, and then relaxed. “Okay, I think I have them now.” Totally unnecessary but oh so enjoyable.

The demon snapped his fingers and dozens of strands appeared in the air in front of him, conveying many tools of his trade: shears and needles, though when one could make the thread slither, there wasn’t much use in the latter, and measuring tape, which was also not needed, but they added to the show. Large pieces of leather were next, dyed black and polished to a dull gleam. The shears bit into the material and as they chewed into it, created shapes as required for the pattern he imagined. When the leather pieces were done, he gave a wave of his hand and the scraps disappeared into a cloud of wriggling threads that floated in the air. The leather molded itself to the contours of the girl, and he tweaked the proportions with tiny twitches of his fingers until they were perfect. Crimson thread, bright to stand out against the black leather, began slithering over the leather with a needle as the serpent’s head. In and out, it wriggled into the leather to bind the pieces together. When the outfit was finished, it was far less revealing than the one he had crafted from satin, but it left just as much to the imagination by how well it clung to the imaginary mannequin that supported it.

The bottom of the gown would surely brush the tops of the girl’s feet when she wore it, whisper softly as it brushed across skin or stockings or leather, depending upon how the woman dressed her feet. Along the left side, a slit ran almost all the way up to the hip, which would reveal most of the woman’s leg as she wore it, even perhaps an improper amount of thigh when she walked. There was no open back or plunging neckline, instead, quite the opposite, the leather was designed to constrict halfway up the wearer’s neck. The shoulders also were quite different than those of the satin dress as they were large and ruffled, from which long leather sleeves extended, a triangle of the material designed to cover the back of the hand while a loop at the apex was worn around the middle finger like a ring. On the cuffs and the hem and collar, the Puppeteer stamped and dyed nonsensical designs, swoops and swirls similar to the red embellishments on the boots of the girl he was currently with.

The Puppeteer twirled a finger in the air and the dress spun around. “Will this do?” he asked. Bringing his hands together with a clap, his cane tucked beneath his elbow, the dress folded itself up neatly and hung in the air, waiting to be taken by the girl.

“As for payment, I think being one of my Dolls will be more than adequate, and I will even provide you, and your sister, with more dresses, as many as you like and in whatever style you desire.”

Twinging at the feel of grips and gropes upon her body, she would close her eyes in disgust and uncomfortable-ness until it was all done. A sigh of relief washed over her face, though within, Ligiatha only envied Lia for getting to feel such a thing happen to her. Her lovely eyes full of innocence would slowly reopen and look upon the magical display of his abilities as they unfold before her in the air. It was as if it wasn't at all hard for him to make things without someone to sew on... as if it was natural. Her facial features would change to awe and her small mouth opened slightly as if she were to say something, but found she couldn't.

The twists and turns of the leathery fabric, the way it was cut and pieces tossed to the side. The red thread wounding into the black leather was just amazing looking and to see the final touch... Lia found herself jerked towards it by Ligiatha's wanting to put it on that instant. Lowering her head quickly she backed up and kept her face towards the ground. Shaking her head slowly as she whispered out loud to her sister. "No... don't do that... we....we can't. Someone already know... we cant risk allowing someone else to."

She feared to look up, but as it floated waiting for her to take it, she forced herself to by the sound of his voice. He was speaking to her directly asking if her sister would like it. Ligiatha screaming inside her head "IT'S GORGEOUS!!! I WANNA WEAR IT NOW!!!". Her eyes would wince as she was started to get a headache from the screams, but slowly nodded with a small smile.

"She'll love it... though.. I do not understand what you mean by... being your doll. I've never heard of anyone asking that as a payment. Is it something new?" Dolls to her were toys for little children, mainly little girls before they grew up. They would play with them and amuse themselves when they had no one to talk to or play with, or at times would have other children play with them along with them as well. But... was he asking the same thing? He couldn't... that would be... wrong. Right? She was completely confused. Perhaps it was a metaphor for something else. Either way, Ligiatha didn't care what it meant. She wanted her dress... and wanted it NOW.

The curious comments of the girl to herself made the Puppeteer arch an eyebrow. In all his millennia of life he had known many strange beings, and the strangest of them usually kept conversations with themselves, even in the company of others. Their sanity was often a subject of debate, and he wondered if the young woman that stood before him was similar. Then again, he gave a scoffing laugh at himself, who was he to judge? He knew himself to be somewhat ‘touched in the head’ by the standards of normal men. It just made life that more interesting! Just as he found her.

When her words were finally directed to him, instead of someone he couldn’t see, he grinned a devil’s smile. “Think of it as… what did you say? A job, that’s what you were looking for, yes? As my ‘dolls’, you and your sister would perform tasks for me. You’d answer to me as I saw fit. A servant, if it were. And I will provide for you so long as you do as instructed.” Of course, he was trying to make it sound more appealing than it was. In his mind, the pair would be little more than property to him, as his Dolls, they’d be nothing more than play things to the Puppeteer. “Come, come, certainly it’s a small price for all the pretty dresses you could ever want,” the demon assured her.

After having handed the neatly folded dress over to the girl, he stood with his hands together in front of him, grasping the silver bulb mounted on the top of his cane. The cap at the bottom of the cane dug into the dirt between two stones that made the pathway that winded through the greenhouse. Brown eyes, a hunter's eyes, narrowed on her as he waited for her answer to his price. Of course, he could dismantle the dresses he'd already given her if she displeased him enough with her answer, but he'd hate to see such pretty things destroyed. Perhaps, he considered, even if she dared disagree with the bargain, he'd allow her to keep the two.

"Servants?.." She could hear it now, Ligiatha was already saying no. As much as she loved the dress she didn't want to obey someone. She hardly wanted to listen to Lia who only pleaded her to leave lives alone and only drink from animals, but to actually listen to a man... and do as he wanted without saying a thing or hesitating... didn't sound appealing to her. Lia, knowing they needed money to get the things they needed wanted to think about it. To her, it sounded like a job. You go into work, do as your boss tells you, and you get paid. Isn't that what jobs here on earth were supposed to be like?

"Is there a possible way that I could... talk to my sister about this before I, well... we.. agree to this condition? Would that be fair? You could even hold onto her dress as collateral.. and.. if we denied.. I would return you my dress that you created for me without me asking you to do so." Lia was always trying to make every situation she was in to where someone, even if it were not her, win. She did not mind sacrificing things for others, but she needed to make sure she wasn't jumping into something she would regret. Ligiatha was only murmuring to her about having to listen to him and do as he said. Nothing came out of her about what they needed and whether they'd be ok to do this even if for a little while.

She would look down to the beautiful gown that was meant for her sister. She gently stroked it with her thumb feeling the soft leather against her skin."Perhaps.. if you want... maybe you could even meet her some time. I could.. encourage her into meeting you somewhere.. that way you could explain the concept to her... I may not be able to explain it right.. not fully knowing all the details." She would shrug. Her mind still on the fact they were supposed to repay Riley for the things that he gave them to help them with their stay in the school. They needed a job, and he was the first to throw an offer at them. Even if it didn't quite sound like a job.

“A private conference between sisters before you make your decision then?” concluded the Puppeteer in question with a cluck of his tongue. He leaned forward, leaving less than a foot between their faces, the end-cap of his cane grinding between the flagstones as it supported more of his weight. “Sounds almost like a conspiracy.” Brown eyes nearly hidden in the shadows cast by the brim of his top hat scrutinized the young Angel’s face.

A moment passed in silence and then the Puppeteer drew back, lifting up from his lean and gave a wave of a hand, his other still holding the bulb of his cane. “Keep the dresses—a gift welcoming you to Caislin Hallows. Your praise was payment enough,” he said, turning to leave. Over his shoulder, he added, “This time.” The statement was punctuated by the rapping of his cane on the path as he took his first step. Before his heel even touched the flagstones though, his clothing erupted into a cloud of black thread. The mist of strings hid the figure they’d formerly clothed and then, they snapped back like rubber bands but instead of drawing across his body, they drew themselves into a tight ball. There no longer was a man within. The ball hovered a moment before shrinking until it vanished. Further explanations, discussions, would have to wait until the next time. Oh, how he enjoyed toying with potential Dolls.
[Exit]

She smiled appreciatively to him as he changed his mind almost immediately. Instead of paying him for the dresses by working for him, it was now a gift. She looked down to the dress she held and smiled almost unable to believe the luck she was already having in this place. Everyone seemed to be so nice. She would lick at her lips listening to his words, and just as she looked up, he was walking away and... poof. Disappeared.

How could he have disappeared? There were no traces of him left. No strand of hair, no clothing as it seemed they were the last to leave... nothing. Taking the amount of steps she needed to stand where he left, to make sure, looking all over the place, eyes searching for any way he could have just.. jumped out of the way leaving her to THINK he left and really didn't.. but nothing was there. Nothing about the path moved showing someone had gone through it.. no extra footprints in the dirt. Nothing.

Flabbergasted, she spun around on her heels hoping to see him just pop out and try to sneak out secretly through the door, but yet again nothing. Biting at her lip she shrugged her shoulders. Still holding onto the dress she knew she should head back to her room to hang it up so as Ligiatha could wear it the next time she came out. Whenever that was going to be... Lia was starting to love being out so much. She was finally getting to see just how nice the world really was compared to what Ligiatha tended to pull in. She slowly headed towards the door, looking back over her shoulder one last time. This place was truely beautiful. She would have to come back here again. Silently she exited and closed the door gently with a click.

-EXIT-