(eh, written out of boredom)
Summary: A new job found, at long last, but a rather difficult musical session... Miss Kitty Mouse thinks there's something in the air.
A few weeks had passed and for the most part, Miss Kitty was still looking for alternative work in a place where she could sing and dance. For every interview she belted out common parlor songs and sang one from her childhood to sweeten the deal. One such business, which used the name of the Queen Victoria in an effort to reel in more customers in a rather cheap advertising tactic, finally gave her the opportunity. Having already passed the audition, she would visit every Wednesday to study for a new song which she would then perform over the weekend for a respectable amount of cash: in order to protect herself from unwanted attention, a new dress and dance routine would have to replace her former and common one. It wasn't so much a matter of throwing the past away but rather so her history wouldn't ruin her chances of maintaining this job. That is, assuming the broken down tavern was able to repair itself after the brawl it lent itself to would ever be repaired in time. Burlesque in all of it's naughty forms, suggestive or otherwise, she enjoyed it. A little bit of 'cleaning up her act' wasn't a bad idea, and could only be seen as a neat transition.
Wednesday finally arrived and here she would be prepared to study a new song by the orchestra, lead by several talented musicians and a handsome devil in a suit that must've cost more than a piece of land. Literally, it was a flashy thing that seemed so unnatural with the rest of the violinists and celloists that he might as well have been from another country entirely. Still, she kept her amusement in check and never bothered him about it and focused solely on adapting to this new gig. Her back-up dancers were no longer with her, so she would be all on her own. A daunting task, but certainly one she could get the hang of with time, care, and patience.
She slipped into the dressing room and here she would prepare to slip on her new outfit. It was as white as her own fur and less risque, naturally, but with peacock-inspired feathers that addressed her backside and along the shoulders, making her almost akin to a strange avian creature. It was, however, a bit loose-- as they were all probably meant for larger women to use. Putting it on was far from slipping into a glove, at best it was like slipping into a dog's sock. Easy to come off, this sort of thing could very well slip off if she turned around or tried anything completely out of the norm besides standing still, exposing her waist and breasts, if not more than that. It was unfortunate, because this was the day it especially mattered. Once they fixed that, however, everything should be a lot better... all she had to do was get through this one audition.
The dress was, in a word, uncomfortable. There was no way she could possibly do this without singing. Upon mentioning it to the conductor he told her that they would make her something better soon, but for now, this was all they had; her frame simply didn't match the ones given. Using her arms to keep her cleavage from being exposed, she kept her chin high and from there they sang from the top. It was a slow, melodic song - the kind of ones meant for a romantic evening watching the Big Ben or anything beyond the realm of the fantastic. It wasn't hard to please a mouse, for they were small and the world was quite huge to enjoy, and Miss Kitty could attest to admiring the wild fantastic.
Like all good things, the best laid songs of mice among men, often go astray.
Or in this case, often go in sneezes.
The first signs of the tickle had actually been as she was putting the dress on earlier ago, slipping her dainty darms across the shoulder straps and trying to button the top of it. Not as if the buttons had done any sort of good seeing as it was still a little loose around her, but there was a faintly odd smell in the dressing room that had started to play around with her small rodent nose. She sniffled once, then twice as heavily, trying to make sense of it. After a pause, and grabbing a tissue to keep herself from inspecting it further, she paid it hardly any attention. However, now she was on stage, singing along the tune of 'When I'm alone with you, I feel this way in my heart' in a wonderful harmony alongside her musicians... and the tickly feeling sensation was starting to return. This time it was coming stronger than she imagined, and her best efforts to pretend it wasn't happening were starting to show. Miss Kitty continued to sing, only to stop when needed, to make adjustments with her voice.
"Once more, with feeling, darling!" said the conductor, nodding, "We're almost there and soon we'll have a brand new star - you! - each and every week!"
if Miss Kitty's nose hadn't been twitching, her hitching breaths and chest rising, breasts partially coming exposed, she might've cheered with joy! And yet somehow the faint smell of dust was apparent. Something awful, smelling old, as if it had been there for awhile. In a place like this though? How could that be? Wet fur, even, unkept and certainly far from perfumes or anything unique to her senses that she would enjoy. It didn't take her long to figure out that someone had decided to join the party, and that mouse could've only been ni the form of Roland... the mouse who simply was too lazy to take a bath. Whatever reason he was here for, Miss Kitty wanted to know soon; Roland's appearance was only going to make things terrible from here on, and it was starting to show.
"And one, and a two, and..."
Miss Kitty fought it, and she did an okay job, to an extent...
---When I'm alo---aall--laooo....ahha--acchCHHEENNXX... Aloo--acchnxxXXXT-- Alone--- wwii---wiiHiiiHeh... heh...HIIeeaACCHEWWEOO... acchhEEEEE.... chchichci alone--! I feel thiss sn---AHHCCHEEEWWW! Heh, feel dis---di-AACCHEEEWWW!!
The sneezing couldn't stop. She tried rubbing her nose furiously, but the nose simply didn't agree with her. Pretty soon she was hunched over, sneezing, arms covering her breasts as best she could. Letting go to cover her mouth would only reveal her shapely chest to her conductor and she wouldn't have it. It came to the point where she would use one arm to keep her dress on, the other to use her arm to cleanse herself. Under such circumstances she would not want to be caught dead doing such an act for fear of looking uncivilized, but there was nothing she could do at this point. How did Roland even get here? Did he sneak in? Was he appointed as part fo a stage hand? She certainly didn't see him on the way in, much anywhere else! Chances were he snuck in, if she was sneezing now!
"Darling, what seems to be the problem?" huffed the conductor, pausing everything to a halt. As he said this, several others helped her with her dress, tissue at hand as well, sparing her the humility. The sneezes, while toned down, still didn't quite stop.
"S--Someone here is mak-- may... mayahayah-AACeehhNSXXTTT!" she said, stifling a sneeze, followed by, "Something, I ddudnn--doeehEEWYAACCHHEEWWW... HISSNNNZXXTT.. AbbffppttCHEEEW! AACCHHEENNXXTTCHEWWW!!! Someone please find it 'cause I cah.... I cah.... I cah..."
For every 'cah' she felt like a circus performer clown. Certainly not something she'd see herself doing, but the sneezes were coming off as dramatic and intense, fierce yet feminine all the same. Still, she was able to cover herself up before anything could be seen, and gradually, if not slowly, her sneeze fit eventually wore off. Her sentences could be enjoyed with only minor interruption. For all intents and purposes, the singing would have to be delayed until she regained composure of herself: not cancelled, merely delayed.
"Find this woman a tissue, several tissues," said the conductor, "and have someone inspect the premises, too. This poor dear will be the death of herself if she sneezes any further. And lord knows I can't have a sneezing act all on it's own!" The rodent huffed, and stepped aside to help everyone else look for what was causing the mess. When asked if she was sick, Miss Kitty declined, trying not to sneeze in their face throughout all of the hullabaloo.
"Cah can't... can't hold out mmoo... much longAIIEECCHEEWWWW!" she squealed in a high-pitched ssneeze. Miss Kitty's singing was good, and perhaps be it her voice, her sneezes were almost like a symphony all to themselves - changing from deep or high, much like one would over a song. That wasn't something to be proud of though, and more annoyance than anything else. Each time she bent over her tail sprang up as if an electric shock had phased her. Sometimes this rang through her a bit and hurt, other times it did feel somewhat pleasurable. Maybe at home this wasn't so bad, but here, no, this was a travesty.
"I'm so sorry," the white mouse singer finally confided in them, "Please... I think my nose is done now, let's finish th--- thi.... thi..... this, please..."
A comical moment of silence ensued. "All sneezed out?" one violinist asked in jest.
"....Goodness, bless me I would ha-- haHaaaho-- AHCCHHEW... --ope sooo..." she groaned, stretching her last word out a bit.
The practice session, despite it's sneezing shortcomings, ended positively. For all intents and purposes she got the song finished and remembered, and managed to work in a sultry dance in the middle of it. However one stray thing happened at the back of her mind, Roland was certainly on to her. If she were any other kind of person she would without a doubt confront him and warn him to back off, but she wasn't the type to make a threat. On the way to her dressing room and her nose sore and runny just a bit, she found the last tissue she could ever hope to use and kept it with her, blowing her nose as softly as she could.
On the way home, she would - of all things - finally meet Roland. He was out with the children and playing his usual games with them. Hide and seek mostly. Nothing had changed since seeing him the previous weeks ago: he had combed his growing hair, and rubbed the soot off of his eyes, but he otherwise looked like a scrap who had made a new home for himself in the few friendly parts of town. Armed with a handkerchief borrowed from hew new job, she found herself compelled to confront him.
"Roland..." she said, fighting the mist of dust starting to choke their surroundings. The children barely noticed a thing, it was a wonder how she could only be effected by it. "What were you doing yesterda--- yesterdayyee-- ey, ey.... ayyaaCCHEEWW!"
Roland blemished. She had got him now. "Oh, I was in the neighborhood. The door was open and I heard your voice, figured I'd go in and give it a listen." The moment his ears perked up and rose up to face her, he shook himself off. Miss Kitty turned away, avoiding the upcoming wave of dust, and when that finished, looked back at him. "I'm sorry, am I making you sneeze?"
She could giggle at him, but she did her best not too. "I see... and I guess you know the play--- play--suh where I work now too, don't you, Roland?"
"Oh yeah. Named after the Queen, right?... Victoria's Secret?"
"Aaaphgbbtthffftchoo.... aaahhbpfffggxnks...." Miss Kitty stifle sneezed back, and while the name was silly alone, that was indeed the name of the new restaurant in which she served as the new act. As was to be said before, referencing a famous name was a cheap tactic in getting it customers. No harm there. "...yes, and you know something, Roland-- I've got a secre--- secr--.... secret, too. Can you guess what I have in my hand?"
Roland didn't reply. "Uh, sure?"
She walked up to him with what almost passed off to reveal to him how much she earned, but instead slapped him across the cheek. Not surprisingly, a bit of dust sprinkled right off. That's how thick he was coated.
"Don't ever do that agh--AH---AH---AHHH--ggAgain, Roland! You know how bad it is enough with you around! Clean that fur of yours, it's driving me off the wall!"
The sounds of sneezing could be heard on her way back to her apartment, while Roland sat there. To what extent of which was made of that, she didn't know, but she hoped this time her friend would make sense of his logic for once. There was only one way to tell he was there and that was through her sneezing. For now, all she could do was go back to her oversized couch - fit for a rodent - and rest in it after a long day's fit.
Until next time...