So the post didn’t really happen as we intended.  As an apology, I am updating this post with a snippet of a story that I am currently working on. Please note I have yet to edit this snippet (if I did, I would have far less written).

This scene involves Delion, who is the Wildfire Riders version of Tim Gunn. With apologies to both…

“You simply do not understand, Bricu.” Delion had said, “The difficulties involved with making garments like this. To mar its perfection by rolling up the sleeves is unthinkable. It is simply uncouth.”

“But mate, it’ll get fuckin’ hot in the barn. An’ yer sayin’ I need t’wear a shirt underneath this red one?”

“Of course you do! You don’t want to perspire through this shirt! Why, you’d be a laughing stock! You would make me a laughing stock!”

“Oh, we woudn’t want that.” Bricu said dryly.

“No, we certainly would not. Now, what pants are you wearing?”

“I was gonna wear the linen…”

“Linen!” Delion yelped, “are you mad? Oh, that would not do.”

Bricu paused.

“Honestly, this is a harvest event. Cotton at least, more of a cotton-wool blend.” Bricu watched as Delion crossed his arm across his chest, then started tapping his nose with his finger. “Yes. That would do nicely. Now, when is this again?”

“T’morrorw.”

“Tomorrow!” Delion shouted. “Oh why would you wait until the last moment to bring this up?” He rushed foward towards Bricu, measuring tape and pins in hand.

“Because they’re soddin’ pants Del. Strweth, they’re supposed t’be comfortable.”

“Those pants do not fit this particular season, and if comfort was the driving force of fashion, we wouldn’t get out of bed!”

“While Threnny an’ I might call that a party, this is a harvest party. I’m supposed t’be meetin’ her friend the Bells.”

“Keep your sordid affairs with miss Al’Cair to yourself, please. Neither myself nor the Bells would want to hear such things.”

“Och, yeh think I”d kiss an’ tell mate? I’m a holy man an’ Threnny’ is a devout servant o’the Light. Such accusations…”

“Bricu. Spare me the bluster, or I might slip and poke you with this pin. Twice. Hold still, I’m taking your measurements.”