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My mind is like a magpie's
IP: 24.34.193.115
Posted on October 2, 2013 at 09:46:14 AM by Alistair

Needless to say, it had been difficult to find clothes. Well, not clothes per se. Clothes that fit Alistair's tall frame, specifically. He doubted anyone in the castle would have anything that looks remotely like it could be his. Still, it was worth looking. And he wanted to see the rooms in the castle anyway. Some of them might have objects in them that snagged his attention. People could be stupid when it came to their valuables. They trusted too much that no one would come and take them or "borrow" them. The boy didn't think it was right to steal; he just couldn't help it. 'if Im going to take peoples things, I may as well only go in the rooms that are unlocked.' That would make him feel better about himself. Not that he could pick locks anyway.

It was a good thing that everyone was busy preparing for the party, because Alistair must have looked suspicious listening at doors and entering rooms, darting around the halls. Even with his curiosity, the teen didn't actually look for anything in most of them. The women's bedrooms. He just looked in, saw that it was occupied by a girl, and left for another room. For every four unlocked rooms he peeked in, only one was a man's. This particular room was one such room. It was already a mess with the garments strewn all over the floor and bed, that Alistair chucked shirts out of one of the drawers with no worry of any suspicion. He held up a purple shirt in disgust. It was close to his size, but never in a million years would the Scot be caught dead in anything that disturbing shade of plum. He quickly kicked the garment under the bed, hoping it never saw the light of day again. The owner of the room did had some good taste, Alistair supposed, but there was a startling lack of white. At least the shirts were about his size, clearly too large for who ever owned them. Possibly for a large relative. He was near defeat, about to throw in the towel (literally) when he reached the bottom of the large drawer. There lay one neatly folded shirt. The only white one in the entire dresser. It looked barely worn. 'thank god.' he thought. Now all that was left was a cloak, a tie, and some pants.

Having decided that searching through rooms took far too much time, Alistair instead "accidentally" bumped into a friendly maid carrying a load of freshly laundered clothes. She went sprawling, the garments scattered all across the passageway and Alistair saw an opportunity. "Let me help you with that." he smiled at her, scooping up as large and armful of laundry as possible. He followed her lead, putting the clothes in their places as she gave him thanks. "Not at all." he paused. "Though, could I trouble you to help me?" the maid was more than glad to do so, setting out to find supplies that met his requirements. She set to fixing the pants. Apparently, lengthing was harder than hemming. While she worked, the boy took it upon himself to bathe. He was dirty and hadn't actually had a chance to wash since his arrival at the castle. The Prince's birthday part was as good as reason as any to do so.

It felt weird being so clean. The feel of the starchy shirt, foreign. The fitting pants that weren't torn up. It was all new. The maid had left to tend to her other duties, leaving Alistair to finish preparing for the party. He tugged on the black boots the maid had been generous enough to leave for him. The hooded cloak he had asked for has appeared as well, in olive green as per his request. Alistair closed the clasp around it and looked at himself on the mirror. Neck down, he looked great, especially since he had taken the liberty of finding a nice jacket that didn't fit too badly. The cloak was mainly just for warmth and the fact that he had never work one. Lastly, he added the blue tie. It worked well with his hair, which currently looked like a bird's nest. He signed running his hand up to make it spike up a bit before freezing it in a thin layer so as not to be seen. Much better. It was the most he's ever shown of his face. Alistair had always put his bangs over one eye and now here was not covering either a little bit. He like the look, but preferred the normal way he looked. At least fancy occasions were rare.

It was still early in the evening when Alistair started for the line, a gust of wind causing the cloak to billow around him. Best way to make an entrance. The line head slowly growing longer, but at the moment it was not too long. Alistair used his long legs and running capabilities to his full advantage as he sprinted for the line, reaching it just before a large clump of people with little effort. He slowly made his way up to the guards, moving maybe a foot every minute or so. The guards merely looked at him and nodded. They must have been told of his height. Alistair entered the glowing room, throwing off the cloak and draping it over a chair in the corner of the room. His eyes widened at the tables. Never in his life had he eaten so well. He glanced table in the front of the room. There, Tristan and Arthut were seated, decked in green and red respectively. He looked around at the men and women already gathering. Their outfits were much more extravagant, but they probably had actual clothes that they owned. He looked down. He could've looked worse. The crowns atop the King and Prince shone in the light. He closed his eyes. 'Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just act like they aren't there.' easier said than done. But he managed to ignore the golden glint for the time being. Instead he gazed at the rows of food. If he took a bit of each maybe he could try everything....... Yeah. That was what he would do. But first, water. It wasn't hard to find some. There was a fair amount-for the children most likely. He took the glass and looked to Tristan and the King. He raised his glass and offered a friendly smile, something one rarely saw out of him. It seemed that since he was never going to regain pre-maze memories, he could at least make these new ones good.

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