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Tales of the Travelling Thread (story)

 
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Shadow_Twisted
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Joined: 30 Aug 2008
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PostPosted: Sat May 22, 2010 9:07 pm    Post subject: Tales of the Travelling Thread (story) Reply with quote

((As some of you already know, I had decided to rewrite Samuel's history to exclude any involvement with a violent past. As such, I have figured I would post it here as I do plan to get into sexual details at some point, which might classify as an erotic tale. In either case, I look forward to seeing if this background becomes more favorable and if not, at least it should hopefully make for a good read.))

Lying awake on the bed, a young tiger laid thinking of his fate. He was currently aboard one of the White Star Liner’s bound for New York. His father’s passing forcing him to leave London far behind, he was out in search for his own life. He plied himself at his father’s trade, a man of the needle and thread, a tailor. While it was perhaps not as illustrious of a career as some, it was enough to keep him out of having to make the voyage in steerage.

He was middle-class, and while he was not entitled to enjoy the same privileges as the first-class passengers, his mind had left him too preoccupied to concern himself much with the pleasures of the voyage. He didn’t really like to leave his cabin much, either, as it was hard for him to avoid getting attention.

Part of a line of “blood” tigers, the young Samuel Dunn was a bit of an oddity. While many were accustomed to some colorful fur patterns, tigers alone were not as common and even less so were the variety known as “blood” tigers. The condition was one that had affected his fur, but also his eyes. The whites were more of a dark void pierced by bright red that was split by a narrow black slit. He looked the part of a murderer and given that he was leaving London, he wondered if some might even suspect him of being Jack the Ripper.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling associated with the stares of just about every passenger aboard, Samuel was not about to spend the entire time wasting away in his cabin. Aside from meals, the tiger always found his restless nights left perfect opportunities to get out and get some air. Many of the decks were emptier and overall, he felt like less of a spectacle. The cool breeze of the Atlantic was biting, and yet refreshing. It was times like this that Samuel liked to be about in his finest, a suit he had made with his father. It consisted of a black frock coat, with which they had added a fine red lace to the cuffs and to the lapels. Underneath was a simple white dress shirt over which a red vest decorated with silver fleur-de-lis was worn. The slacks were simply black trousers, or at least on the outside. Samuel remembered well when he had secretly unthreaded the pants to add a soft silk lining to the interior while his father slept. He was accosted the next morning, not for the pants or the missing silk, but for having slept into the business hours of the shop. To top it all was a black top hat with a red silk band about the base.

Excuse me, sir, but I don’t recall seeing you amongst the first class passengers.” The sweet soft voice rang out, taking the tiger by surprise.

Samuel turned expecting to see some young angelic girl, and he was somewhat right. Before him was a young squirrel around his age, he guessed. Her fur was a snowy white and appeared soft as a cloud. Her eyes were a bright and entrancing blue, which matched the gown she wore quite well. Her hair was a soft pink, which matched the color of the heart-shaped gem that hung from her neck, and was curled up much like one might expect to find on a doll. “Well that would be because I am not a first-class passenger, m’lady.” Samuel replied, watching the all too familiar start of surprise that accompanied someone looking into his eyes.

However, this young lady was not running away. Instead, she seemed almost entranced. “You seem like quite a curiosity to me Mr…

Dunn, Samuel Dunn.” Samuel introduced himself.

Well, Mr. Dunn, you seem to be well off. Why are you not travelling first-class?

Samuel smiled, briefly, and then tried to decide a proper answer. “I am but a man who makes the upper class more distinguished.

The look of puzzlement upon the young girl’s face was priceless. Samuel had no love for the upper class, yet he needed them for it was their business that made his voyage possible. However, where were they when their favorite tailor was taken by consumption? Did they care for a boy about to lose his father? No, so long as they looked better than the bum on the corner, they didn’t care who did the work. Samuel felt so…replaceable.

Very well then, Mr. Dunn. I can think of no answer to your riddle, but I must be going before my father gets worried. Shall I see you again?

That is simply a matter for you to decide, Miss…?

If you should give me something to ponder, is it not fair for me to do the same? Farewell, Mr. Dunn.
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