Chapter 11-The Tailor

“I gotta say doll, you may have earned yourself a reputation there.” Frankie took a sip of corecohol from his cup.

The three Eaters were sitting at a table at the top of the lighthouse like towers above the castle. Anjou of course was seated as far away from the edge as possible so she could pretend that they were still on the ground floor. Apparently, this is where they sat while the others slept so they could get a wide angle view of the city and surrounding area, in case of any trouble.

“I agree.” Venomgrin said. “I expected you to punch through that floating boulder, but that was something else.”

Anjou stared at her own cup and concentrated on trying to keep her eyes away from the edge of the small platform. “Yeah, sorry. I get a bit carried away in front of a crowd. ”

Venomgrin laughed. “Oh, I ain’t complainin’. And I know Cereza loved the whole thing.”

Cereza had been absolutely giddy about the whole fight. While the crowd of spectators had been eerily quiet, she had been cheering, almost bragging like she had personally won the fight. Once the group was back to the family and the other two Eaters, she began asking a thousand questions that Anjou could barely keep up with. Things like; Where did she learn to fight? Why did she call herself the Crimson Hare? Had she killed anyone before? Then Cereza started going off on tangents on how her skills could be used to solve some situations.

Anjou downed the contents of her cup and poured herself some more. “I’m sure it won’t be that big of a deal. Things will quiet down and I can concentrate on being her bodyguard.”

“Unlikely,” Frankie said bluntly. “We’re more than just bodyguards. We get sent off from time to time to take care of other things. Comes with the job.”

“Like what?”

“Whatever needs doin’” Venomgrin said. “Monster attacks. Dealing with other kingdoms. Local spats. Finding random rabbit’s who happen to get thrown down a well.” Anjou blushed.

Frankie took another drink. “Yep. We’re peacekeepers. Though Esteris is a peaceful place compared to other places. Luckily we don’t have any carnage beasts running around.”

“What’s a carnage beast?” Anjou asked.

“Big, nasty creatures that destroy everything in their path.” Venomgrin snarled playfully to illustrate her point. “Killing one is a huge accomplishment. But they’re nothing to worry about unless you need to reach your first Evolution Level. And seeing as how your Core Level is only two, you ain’t gotta worry about that anytime soon. Let alone me or Frankie.”

“What about people like Takrin?”

“They can be dangerous for new Eaters, but since you’ve leveled up once already and have a couple of skills, you shouldn’t have to worry much about them. The higher the level, the less likely they are to attack.”

“What are your levels?”

“Well, I’m level 5. And Frankie there is level 8, which I think is too low considering he’s been here much longer than I have.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Frankie chuckled. “True. I’ve known Angeline since she was Lanric and Cereza’s age. But as I said, there isn’t much need for fighting here and I don’t have the same desire for combat as Grinny here. Speaking of, you said that it's been fifty years since my disappearance back on Earth. How’s the rest of my gang doing? Any of them still alive?”

“Your gang?” Venomgrin asked.

“He means the Peaches.” Anjou said. “They were a music group. If I remember, they were all still alive. They broke up in the 70’s, but they had a few reunions and used a girl named Kimberly as their fourth.”

Frankie sighed loudly. “Of course they used Kimberly.”

“Whose that?” Venomgrin asked.

“My step daughter,” he said quietly. “And not something I’d rather get into. I’d rather hear about Annie’s exploits here. A female boxer huh? Not a common thing back in my day.”

Anjou flinched at the unexpected nickname. She was about to say something when Venomgrin spoke again. “Don’t be givin’ out nicknames like that Frankie. I think Anjou is a pretty name. But, I don’t mind you callin’ me Grinny. I know my name is a mouthful.”

Frankie put up his hands. “Alright, I’m sorry.”

Anjou smiled. “No, it’s fine. It just reminded me of, well I was gonna say home, but I guess this is my home now.”

“And a fine home at that.” Frankie raised his glass. “You’ll settle in no time. I propose a toast. To new friends and a new life.” Grinny raised her jug and after a moment’s hesitation, Anjou followed suit and they clinked their drinks together.

—

“This definitely feels familiar,” Anjou said under her breath.

She was currently standing in front of several mirrors that were positioned in a way that showed her from several different angles while a short bald man took a string and measured different parts of her body. Cereza, Frankie and Angeline sat off to the side and were quiet as the man murmured numbers to himself. Apparently his name was Alon and he was the tailor for the family and their Eaters. When he was finished he walked over to a small table with a stool, sat down and quickly jotted down the numbers.

“Okay, Lady Anjou, I have your measurements. Now I need the description of what your outfit will be. Let it represent you as well as your past life. Take sir Frankie for example. He described himself as a gentlemen singer and described an outfit known as a tuxedo to me. It was tough work, but one of my greatest creations. And I need more than just what it looks like, I need what it feels like, or what kind of materials it should have.”

Anjou took a moment then spoke. “I guess it would have to be a boxing robe. It’s like a regular robe but only the top half, although it does flow down a little past the waist. Oh and it has a hood. As for the feel, it’s a light silky material. Very soft.”

Alon scribbled something down. “Okay, that’s a good starting point. Now, does it need to close or be tied like other robes?”

“Yes. But the material used to tie it is usually attached to the robe itself, that way it can be easily untied if necessary.”

“Good. Good. Now let’s speak of colors and patterns.”

“Make it black, with red streaks,” Cereza called over. “Something that people might fear.”

Anjou shook her head. “That’s not really my vibe.”

“Vibe? What does that mean?”

“It’s not the feeling I want to evoke. I think I want a dark red color. Darker than my fur, but with gold trimming. Oh and can you put holes in the hood so my ears can stick out. It would look strange otherwise.”

“Of course,” Alon agreed.

“Oh, come on. If you’re going to my Eater I should have a say in how you look.” Cereza complained.

Angeline put a hand on her daughter's head and made a shushing noise. “You need to let her decide. It is part of our way.”

Alon scribbled for a few moments in silence before looking up and smiling. “Alright, I believe I have the perfect design in mind. I should have it ready for you by this evening.”

“Really? That fast?”

“There’s a reason the family has relied on me for these many years.” Alon made the Shellen gesture.