Special invites

“Zepp. Zepp. ZEPP!”

“Fuck off … it's too early…”

Zepp lay curled up in bed, cuddled up with his little stellaram under the blankets. Given the light streaming through the now open curtains, it was at the earliest midday. He pulled the duvet over his head, in an attempt to ignore his excited partner, but the greed bun was adamant. After a few minutes of constant pestering, and frustrated, annoyed bleats from the imp at the disturbance, he gave in, pulling the sheets down. 

“Fucks sake man I want to sleep… What is it?” When he looked up, Flint was holding what seemed to be two slips of purple paper, its outline glistening with some sort of gold leaf, as well as a larger, less finely decorated sheet. The bun himself had a huge shit eating grin across his face, almost bouncing with excitement. 

“You know what this means?” 

He looked the greed bun up and down a few times with tired, puzzled eyes. “Am I supposed to?” 

Flint rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Cmon, take a look!” He handed one of the two slips to the pride bun, once he'd finished rubbing his eyes. It was an intricately designed invitation, purple card with a gold leaf trim, and several delicate looking butterfly outlines spread around the centre writing, also in gold. 

“Fairy Masquerade, Admits One.”

“Uh, okay, some fancy ass masquerade ball thing? Why would I care?”

Flint gave him a soft slap to the back of the head. 

“Do you hear yourself Zepp? Hold on, lemme read it.” He began to read out the longer, formal letter. Most of what he said went completely over the sleepy bun’s head, just something about a masquerade ball, very strict formal dress code, fairy themed, masks required, something about the Wonderland Casino. “We've been invited to a party hosted by Angora herself! You aren't excited? Come on, we need to go buy suits for this! On me!”

“Whatever…” He rolled back over in the bed, not really paying much attention, before getting dragged out by his adamant partner. 

“Get ready, don't care if you want to sleep, we are not missing this.”

Soon enough, he found himself in the suit section of one of the most luxurious boutiques in the city, multiple members of the staff attempting to find the perfect outfit for him to wear to the gala. Everything felt extremely restrictive and itchy, and nothing resembled his usual punk vibe. It was all way too high class for him. Despite his protests, the employees insisted that the final suit they chose complimented his figure perfectly, and that kind of stuff. He didn't understand it, but if it meant getting out of this uncomfortable, overly prestigious feeling environment, he would take it. The suit was bagged, a butterfly themed mask was chosen for him, and he was reunited with Flint. The other bun seemed significantly more pleased with himself than Zepp was, and had zero issue with forking over a couple thousand carats, as well as quite a generous tip, to the establishment, which was quite uncharacteristic of the greed bun, who typically refused to spend anything if he didn't need to. 

The day of the event came around, and despite the fact it wasn't to start admitting entrance until evening, Flint had the whole day planned out for the pairs preparation for the event. The pride bun really had no interest in attending, but given how much his partner was hyping up the masquerade ball, he couldn't exactly turn around and say he didn't want to go. Getting invited to interact with upper class socialites at a fancy venue, hosted by the most wealthy woman in the entirety of Burrowgatory wasn't exactly something appealing to him. But hey, he hadn't seen Flint this excited about something since, whatever that console was called was finally released.

While usually it was Zepp who would spend forever getting ready, prideful of his appearance, he only took a fraction of the time the greed bun did in preparing for the event. He made sure he was presentable, dressed up in his new suit. Its main colour was Violet, with gold and copper coloured butterflies mounted along the front and the colour, as well as a golden tie. The fabric was stiff and uncomfortable, as well as the shoes, but he'd make do. He sat in the kitchen waiting for Flint to finish, petting Heimdall, mask left on the table. It seemed like forever until he emerged, hair styled, ears tied back, and multiple pieces of jewellery decorating his horns and tail. His suit was black, with a rose tie and patterns reminiscent of gossamer wings across it, his intricate black and pink winged mask already affixed to his face. While Zepp still hated the idea of formal wear, he couldn't deny he looked stunning. “So, ready to go?” The pink bun asked. 

“Oh, yeah, uh could you help me get this on?”

The mask was just as awkward as the rest of the clothes, making it difficult to see and feeling weird on his face. 

He felt quite out of place as they stood in the queue outside the casino, waiting to get in. High class buns dressed in elaborate gowns and masquerade masks, giggling and discussing their expectations for the event. Flint had their admission tickets gripped in a deathhold in one hand, and Zepp's own hand in the other. Once they reached the door, a gruff looking bun awaited beside a velvet rope, acting as a bouncer. “Invites?”

Flint handed them over. The bouncer examined them carefully, before tearing the corner and discarding them in a waste bin, and pulling back the rope, letting the pair enter.