little lamb . arrows

b e a u    

Whoever said summertime living is easy, Beau wants to punch them in the face. Overhead, the sun's eye burns brightly against the pavement pushing waves of rolling heat up into the air. Back on the streets, Beau never knew if he had enough water when the sweltering summers came. Now, it may damn well get him killed. Even as his feet fall onto the street in swift succession, the sun's solar throne is slowing him slightly. When Octavia invites you to a formal event and needs you to get fitted, you cannot be late. Yet here he is sweat stained and sprinting across the District with more water in his armpits than hair. Meanwhile, she is probably already at the shop turning a tie into a whip.

Beau bounds onto the broad avenue of District Two's Town Square just as he slams into another boy. A cry erupts from the crash as the other boy's knee bends in all the wrong directions. This has to be a fucking joke, Beau thinks to himself as his own body lands in a writhing mess on top of the other's. Nearby, some woman is shouting at him something about how her son had told Beau to watch out. Beau's ears burn. He hadn't heard the warning. He pushes back the flooding fear in his veins as he fumbles to his feet and keeps running. The wrath of some Mother over her son's broken leg is nothing compared to the hellfire of Octavia if he is even another minute more tardy. Not to mention, the boy sounds like a little bitch.

Outside of the shop, Beau forces himself to stop as his fingers furl around the door handle. His face is red with sweat and soot from the street and his hair is a mangled mess. Struasses provide perfection and this is far from it. Searching the street, Beau quickly rushes over to a nearby drinking fountain and makes himself presentable. It may seem minor to the outside world, but  maintaining an image of such status is just as important to keeping Beau from having to kill yet another Strauss. It's always about the show.

Stepping into the shop with the gentle chime of the door's bell, Beau hurries himself to Octavia and the warpath she is sewing throughout the store. It takes her all of a single second to growl her disapproval at his lateness. The sound of her sharp voice sends shrills down Beau's stiffened spine despite his hearing taking some of the edge off of her tone. This was the woman he chose to follow, so he is careful not to show even a slight sign of his fear. Should he even seem somewhat weak she would pluck him like a flower and throw him into a fire. No no, Beau Strauss is her perfect show star career with absolutely excellent hearing of course. Maybe if he keeps telling himself that then it will become true.

"Yes Ma'am, my apologies. A fight at the center went longer than expected when they tried to have two others attack me at once. I had to make proper fools of them both of course."

It's true, the unexpected duo was what originally set Beau behind schedule. As for the run in with the other boy, well, she doesn't need to know about that. Instead, Beau holds out his hands and catches the clothes she sends in his direction. He doesn't even have a moment to take in the items before Octavia orders him off to the changing rooms. Beau bows his head calmly beneath the brutal bite of her bark.

"Right away."

The changing room supplies Beau with a few seconds of safety in seclusion. As he shifts outfits and his fingers fumble with fancy buttons, he takes the time he needs to breathe and settle himself. The whole day sure seemed like one long sprint and this was finally his moment to catch a breath. Still though, he doesn't delay. The instant he is done changing he steps out from the room and before the eyes of Octavia. The outfit is brilliant, black with red lining. Seeing himself in the mirror, Beau can see that it really makes his eyes piercing and powerful. The bow tie isn't his favorite, it takes all of his effort not to fiddle with it, but if Octavia likes it then he will wear it.

"The red is nice, like blood."

Beau admits. Strausses are supposed to be strong, so wearing something that signifies the blood of their enemies seems right.

"Anything else I should try on?"

 s t r a u s s