The Von Lycaon Method [Subscriber Reward]
Carmine needs help getting into character.
(art by Zubuzz )
If you'd like to read more like this before it gets posted publicly, head over to my Subscribestar!
The Von Lycaon Method By Limewah Subscriber Reward for RMED (Feb 2024)
“You look incredible!”
“D-do I?” Carmine laughed nervously, his claw resting against his nervous grinning lips.
“Of course! You just gotta be a bit more confident!”
The costume was well fitted, for sure. The waistcoat and slacks he’d rented from a tailor were hanging perfectly around the dragon’s body, making him seem even broader and sturdier… they did make his legs look great. The 3d printed accessories that turned the thrift-store ankle-boots into robotic-looking greaves had also turned out pretty spot-on. The full-head mask made up of a black harness and white wig was surprisingly quite breathable, too. He barely even noticed it.
Carmine’s physique obviously didn’t match the lithe, sinuous body of the wolf butler he was cosplaying… but other than that, it was practically a one-to-one recreation.
He didn’t even notice the contact lens in his eye any more. It wasn’t until he saw himself that self-consciousness was starting to set in.
Tracy was peering around Carmine’s left side, and Carmine’s eyes locked with hers through their reflections. The robot-cat’s AMOLED eyes gleamed with pride. The costumes had been her idea - and her creation, too. She was dressed to the nines in a long, flowing maid’s outfit with very form fitting white stockings and an equally fitted corset around her waist and chest.
The nanofibre ‘hair’ on her head had turned a stone-grey colour, and her normally yellow eyes glowed red.
This “Rina” and “Von Lycaon” were almost guaranteed to get stares and requests for photos all weekend long. They’d be the talk of the con.
That prospect clearly excited one of them more than the other. Tracy was so excited Carmine could hear her cooling fans working overtime to keep her temperature regulated.
As for him… he felt like he was going to faint.
The mask suddenly began to feel warm. His legs felt stiff, restricted by the greaves. He felt unwieldy and awkward.
He knew, objectively, that the outfit looked great. But that wouldn’t matter if his anxiety was needling at him the whole time. He tried to keep it at bay, but he couldn’t stop the worries from spilling out.
“I dunno, hah… there might be other Von Lycaons about, and they might look the part better than me.”
“So?” Tracy scoffed. “He’s a popular character!”
“Yeah, so people are gonna expect something really spectacular…”
“Which you are!” Tracy scoffed and rolled her eye-screen. “You look the part, surely you’re feeling the part too, right? You can go full method-acting with it! Disappear into the character…”
“I g-guess…”
“I know you can do it. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“When has that stopped me from worrying before,” Carmine said, only a quarter joking.
Tracy’s face dropped suddenly. The air seemed to shift. For a second, Carmine wondered if he’d said something wrong. But he didn’t have time to wonder.
“Now, this won’t do at all!” Tracy’s voice had changed - her voice dropped half an octave, but her tone became smooth like a ballroom waltz. (She probably could have done a one-to-one replica of the voice actor, but she wanted her own personality to shine through a little.) “You are the head of Victoria Housekeeping, after all!”
“W-what?” Carmine asked, feeling his muzzle strain with a nervous rictus smile.
“Don’t look so confused, sir! Remember - we are representing our company, and we must show absolute professionalism!!”
“You, uhm, haha… dang, you’re good at this,” Carmine giggle-croaked. “I dunno, couldn’t we just walk around and not be in character?”
“What do you mean, Von?” She was still speaking like… well, like Rina. “We are not in character, we’re ourselves and ourselves alone. Here, you might need a reminder…”
Uh-oh. Carmine knew where this was going. (though perhaps a part of him was hoping for it.)
“W-wait, hah,” Carmine said, putting his hands up as if to calm her down. “You don’t need…”
A small screen emerged from beneath Tracy’s right sleeve, coming from somewhere in her forearm. The screen came to life immediately, bathing Carmine’s face in dancing yellow lights.
There was already a well-worn desire path in his brain for the spirals in that screen - one of the many such grooves hypnotist after hypnotist had put in his head.
“Tt….to… ddhduh….”
Carmine’s hands didn’t fall straight down. They descended slowly, as if sinking in thick oil, and as his hands sank, the rest of him slumped forward. His one visible eye dilated until it was completely black, before a thick yellow spiral began to whirlpool out from the centre of it. The servos of the screen’s cord whirred softly as it swung back and forth.
“There we go.” Tracy’s normal voice returned for a moment. “Now… what’s your name, wolf?”
“C…cuh…Carmiiine…?” Carmine slurred.
“Aww. Yeah, I figured you’d say that. You know you’re Carmine.”
Her voice gradually began to slip back into character.
“But what if you weren’t, just for a little while? What might it be like to believe you’re someone completely different? Not a dragon, but a wolf. A werewolf, in fact. Someone prim and proper and poised, the leader of Victoria Housekeeping…”
The spiral on the screen became less opaque, and images flashed on it. Someone was staring back at Carmine through the spiral. It didn’t look like him… the outfit was the same, but instead of his long, flat dragon snout, it was a white canine one, sleek and serious.
Was he making that face?
The stoic face slackened into confusion.
“What’s g…going on…?”
He tried to look away, but the screen blasted a flashbang of hypnotic colour and he froze to the spot.
“Ah ah ah. Just look at your reflection,” Tracy said, her voice now fully back in Rina-mode. “You must make sure your appearance is just so… you must always look your best, even in combat against Ethereals. You’ve said so yourself, don’t you remember?”
“I do…” Carmine murmured. He did remember Ethereals… where from? From a game? Or from… fighting them himself…? No, he remembered the exertion of facing down otherworldly abominations, the hiss of steam from his hydraulic legs, the poised deadly tango.
“Yes…” he continued. “Yes, we’re here to represent Victoria Housekeeping, and we must look our best…”
“That’s right, Von! Now you’re starting to remember!”
“Remember…” he repeated, and he could see the wolf’s mouth moving with his on the screen - no, he saw his reflection in the mirror. “Yes, I am beginning to recall…”
Carmine would have been taken aback by the silken, suave voice coming from his mouth.
But Carmine was nowhere to be found. There was only Von Lycaon.
“Now, we need to make sure we’re looking our best,” Rina said helpfully. “Does everything look in order?”
Von Lycaon looked past the screen, at the hotel room mirror. His expression was stoic, his waistcoat was perfectly fitted… he reached into his pocket and pulled out the golden pocketwatch. It pinged open and he examined it, confirming from its soft ticking that it was keeping time.
The only thing that was off about his appearance were the strange spirals in his visible eye.
One blink removed that from his vision, and it was back to its normal lustre.
“Hrm. Yes. All is in order. Aside from…”
He scratched his chin, staring at his barrel-chest and thick stomach. “I seem to have let myself go slightly.”
“Not at all!” Rina said. “You look as fit and well-toned as always…”
Before he could disagree, Von Lycaon felt a flash of green in the corner of his vision. When he looked at his reflection again, it was as slim and lithe as he remembered. His eye was swirling green… no, it was its usual red shade_._
“Yes. As always,” he agreed.
With that, Von looked away from his reflection, and down at his Head Maid. “Shall we, Rina?”
“Yes sir!”
-
“Is the convention to your liking so far?”
“Yeah, s-so good! C…Can I take a photo with you?”
“But of course.”
“Ahhh, th-thank you!”
Every convention-goer Von Lycaon made eye contact with was absolutely smitten with him. He often was the one to approach them.
Whenever people asked Von Lycaon for photographs, he moved in to flank them alongside Rina, standing sentry over them. The gawkers were always smitten, just a little bit shaky as they held out their phone for what would often be a very blurry selfie.
On more than one occasion, Von took the phone off of them and held it upwards. His height made it easier to get a good, suitably flattering picture - not to mention, one that was not blurry.
“Allow me, if you please,” was the phrase he would always use. And they always did please.
When conversation went beyond photography, Rina was the one who did most of the small talk. Von had to project that air of quiet elegance, after all. When he did speak, his polite, melodic rumble brought warm blushes and nervous grins, and he could scent their excitement in the air.
Von tried not to show his pleasure at being observed and admired. So many bright-eyed, smiling faces staring up at him, from up close or afar. When he locked eyes, he would tilt his head up, shift his hips, brandish his watch with a click and a ping, and allow them to take a photo from afar.
Von found himself resisting the urge to smile for those photos.
While he was, at the end of the day, here on Victoria Housekeeping business, he could find more than a little enjoyment in the work.