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Aurelius always waited for a moment like that. He had seen many festivals of
various nations around the world, but never one focused mainly on... Masks.
Not that he'd not wear a mask anyway even if that would mean some unwanted
attention, but... He just always wanted to see which masks would others put on,
which shapes, which colors and sizes... It told more about a person than their
actual face. You don't choose your face after all, and a mask? It shows your tastes
and personality from the first glance. He saw no reason to show his, the feathers
of his dear companion - the macaw he brought with himself on his journey, and
everywhere since then, as a sign of their connection, the tiger's eye gem as a
symbol of him wanting to see more and past physical limits... Those were way more
important than his hideous face which showed nothing but the fact that he had
failed the cat who was closest to his heart. The right side of his face was almost
entirely covered with a huge, nasty burning scars, making him feel more like a monster
than a cat when only he was without his mask, exposed and... Naked. The worst this
about it was the fact though, that as his soon-to-be wife passed as a result of greencough
plague that flooded his ex clan. He was just torn, soon looking for a solution, which
led him to a ritual. Bonfire, the bones of hers he stole from the clan's catacombs and
the moonstone. This was enough to bring her from the realms of the dead, but did it
change anything? As he quietly prayed with closed eyes, raising the fire higher and higher,
he suddenly felt as the fire caught on the tips of his right whiskers, then the rest spreaded
on the broader parts of his face. He not only disfigured himself that day, but also failed
the cat who counted on him the most...
He could've wondered for longer but the sudden remark in a native language of his made
him nothing but baffled. How could she know anything about his descent? He stopped for
a moment, then his mind focused on the actual meaning of her words, even more confused
about the whole persona of hers. He slightly gasped inside the back of his mask at the sudden
chide, then decided to return the favor. "If you don't want to be stared at, then I think
you're missing the point..." he responded in pure Latin just like hers, with a hint of accent
suggesting the heritage of his. Then, he put the drink back on the table for a while. "Why
would you then choose the materials you did otherwise? Of course, I can stop staring... but
I don't think it would change a thing in this whole game of picking interest and, for some,
strutting their stuff..."
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