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 Origins: How to Be a White Woman, Tag: Wolverine
Silver Fox
 Posted: May 2 2016, 10:04 PM
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Foxy Mama


1900s

====

Silver Fox was having quite the problem at home. She was being blackmailed. Someone was finally ready to confront the chief about her constant disappearances. It was just a woman, but she had a big mouth. Evidently, there was a warrior she was in love with, but he only had eyes for Fox. She thought Fox was sneaking away to see him, but the man's timed exits were only a coincidence.

The threat was that if she didn't cease the rendezvous trend and at least have the decency to come forward, then she'd go to her father. Silver Fox, to say the least, was not pleased. No amount of reasoning would get through to the woman, but she wasn't about to say that she was really running off to see someone outside of the tribe, a white woodsman at that. And so Fox did what she had to, and countered the blackmail. "<<I have tried to tell you that I am not sneaking off to see Running Horse, but you will not believe me," Fox started solemnly in their native tongue. "<<You leave me no choice.>>" The other woman stepped back with a suspicious look. Even Fox would be in trouble for attacking someone within her own tribe, but the dark-haired only child of their Chief was known for sporting a temper rivaling any beast when provoked.

"<<If you tell say anything about this, I..will tell my father that you lust after him.>>"

A shocked gasp was the reply. "<<Lies!>>"

"<<It is truth. I have seen you and the other unmarried women looking at my father with lusting eyes. Approach him or /anyone/ else with your wild thoughts and I will tell him so.">>

This was a grave threat. No one could dare hope to fill the hole in the great Chief's heart, though it had been attempted before. This..would not do. Her chances with Running Horse would be ruined if Fox talked. She was not in love with the Chief, but it was true that she thought the elder man very handsome. Even if it was all a lie, their Chief would surely believe his daughter's words...

"<<And you swear it is not Running Horse that you go to?>>"

Fox's well of patience was running dry with this woman. "<<I have already told you it was so, but if you refuse to believe me then think what you will. I only go in the forest to explore. What would someone like him want with someone who's already lost a husband.>>"

It was plausible. Their Chief's daughter had always been unbearably curious about every plant and animal they came across. Once, as a girl of five winters, the girl had spent twenty minutes examining a strange clay she had never seen before. /Twenty/ minutes. Her inordinate fascination with nature was no secret to anyone.

In any case, the crisis had been averted and the woman was delighted to find Running Horse was, in fact, not sneaking off to see Silver Fox in secret. Fox was long gone, but the dark-haired warrior was dozing off by a small creek, resting as the rest of the men were. Maybe invoking the memory of a man she'd never truly loved was a low move, but that hadn't been the intent. Besides, it was true enough that women who'd lost a husband rarely matched with another - either by lack of will or lack of interest on the other side. There was a taboo to it. It was slowly changing, but not so much that you'd notice.

===

Annoyed as she was at the moment, Fox could have used a moment of entertainment.

Fox was muttering to herself as she broke through the trees to the clearing that held Logan's cabin. Logan's puppy - no, Logan said he was a 'dog' now because the animal was no longer small - had found her before she had emerged. Rather than pounce on her there, the dog waited until she was feet away from the door before beginning what Fox was starting to think was some strange animal ritual. Blue greeted her by running around her in circles. She stopped short, as always since previous experience had taught her that the dog wouldn't stop until she did. He stopped and finished his little ritual by propping himself up on her and sniffing about. Fox endured it because Logan was very fond of Blue and Blue kept him company when she could not. Still...having the dog evaluate her legs, butt, and breasts every time she appeared was hard to take.

The dark-haired woman was surprised to find that an older Blue sort of resembled the wild dogs her people used to pull sleds. They weren't as oft used as the elk dog [white men called them 'horses'] anymore and so Fox didn't see as many anymore. Of course, the wild dogs Native Americans made use of were only similar to domesticated dogs like Logan's in basic structure. You know..four legs, fur, tail, snout-nose. Wild dogs were bigger and a bit more rough looking than domesticated ones. They were usually more rowdy and darker in color too. And, of course, Fox had only seen grown wild dogs, hence her not recognizing a 'puppy'. Even now, it had taken a while for Fox to make that particular comparison.

The door was open and Logan was standing in front of it. Strangely, as he moved to go in - or she thought that he was going to go in - the door slammed shut. Fox blinked. How odd. Logan seemed very agitated. The two really did look quite different. Even smelled differently.

She approached the door cautiously, Blue right behind her. The woman opened the door and entered without a problem, Blue right behind her. The door closed quietly on its own, a mockery to its annoyed occupant.

Logan was handling some strange items and Fox could only look on curiously. The man had begrudgingly agreed to humor her wish to explore this 'town' that white men inhabited. There was need to disguise her, though, as she would stand out far too much. So Logan went to retrieve the necessary items. Fox had seen many white men, but not a single white woman. Really, she hadn't. They were only ever attacked by white men, white women weren't allowed to fight either she supposed. Their women either didn't come or were hidden in their little traveling..things. Also, the white men that happened across their tribal home often left when they found the men to be gone. Or, they'd leave upon finding that their numbers could not compare to their numerous warriors. Either most of the men were gone or /all/ of the men were home to rest. That's how it was. The few that thought to take advantage of a camp full of women were sorely disappointed when finding themselves on the opposing end of a spear. The women didn't go out to hunt or fight; that did not always imply helplessness.

That several women had various 'gifts' from the Great Spirit didn't hurt either.

She peered around him, wondering what he'd gotten. "What....is this?" There was a lot of stuff here. I suppose we have more than differences in skin to consider.
 Posted: Apr 9 2017, 05:07 PM
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James "Logan" Howlett
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Sax
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Grr. Snikt. Bub. Snikt.


Logan nudged open the cabin door after his insistent banging against the wooden door. He was growing agitated, and being a man, he decided he wanted to do things the hard way just to see if he could do it. He used the tip of his toe several time in an attempt to open the barrier and allow himself to slide through. Every time the door opened, he’d only have a split second to use his elbow to catch the door and slip through. He failed three times now, and was beginning to get agitated. He could have easily dropped the things in his hands, but that was the problem, he didn’t want to drop anything. He was handling delicate things, things that… well… didn’t deserve to be dirty by being placed on the ground or the nearby table. Old Blue was hooting and whining like crazy, begging to be let out every time Logan opened the door. The golden retriever whined the fourth time Logan managed to peel open the door, only to fail once more in actually going in.

Wolverine shifted the items in his hands.

“Wanna go out?” Logan mumbled, feeling his cowboy hat slipping off his head with no free hand to push it back into place. Old Blue barked in response from behind the closed door. Balancing on one foot, Logan managed to open the door once more, before he grunted, “C’mon out then!” Blue barged through the door, swinging open the wooden frame with a loud CRACK as it slammed against the side of the cabin. Barely getting out of the way in time, Logan jumped back, fumbling over his balance as Blue ran around him. Digging in his heels and leaning forward, Logan’s miraculous escape in not falling was rewarded by Blue’s cheerful barks before he finally ran off into the woods. SLAM! The door slammed shut before Wolverine could move forward and go into the cabin. Maybe he'd spare it from shredded bliss...

His cowboy hat mocked him by hitting the ground with a small puff of dust.

Agitated, he dropped a single bag and quickly threw open the door, snatching the sack before heading in. Now he’d have to take everything out of the damn bag before he’d give it to Fox, who was due to appear in… well, now, actually. Tossing the stuff on his rumpled bed while heading back out to pluck his hat while throwing open the door, he dusted off the fine leather before placing it back on his two-peaked hair just as he saw Fox’s slender form emerge from the woods. Blue wasn’t far behind. “Just in time,” Logan grumbled, turning around and SLAM!… the door closed right in front of him again. You’re going to burn, he hissed in his head before throwing open the door again and heading inside. Waiting for Fox to enter the cabin herself, Logan rustled through the bags, quickly taking out each item as if each thing was as precious as a baby, and placed them on a table. He knew how women were when it came to their… stuff. Nothing was allowed to be messed up at all. Even though Fox briefly knew what Logan was doing, since she was the one who suggested it, her items were still supposed to be in perfect shape.

"What... is this?"

“They call this make-up,” Logan replied. “Women put it on their face to make ‘em look better, I guess.” Actually, most looked worse to Wolverine, but Silver Fox was going to have to hide her tan skin if she actually wanted to go into a white man’s town. “Powder to lighten your face, lipstick to paint your lips, and some sort of pencil to mark your eyes with.” Logan had a rough time understanding the woman who sold him all the stuff. Supposedly Fox was supposed to use the pencil and outline her eyelids or something. Wolverine merely looked at the women as if she was crazy before she gave up and just handed him the stuff. But that wasn’t all that he bought Fox. She was used to wearing skins and furs as clothes—a dead ringer she was an Indian. Logan actually had to go out and buy a dress and what they called a slip.

Taking a box off his bed and slipping it carefully onto the table, Logan pointed to the box, ushering for Silver Fox to open it. “Some woman spent most of the morning makin’ that. She kept yellin’ at me to wait until she opened her store instead of gettin’ her outta bed.” Logan’s agitated expression softened slightly as he smiled. “She finally gave in. I can be a persuasive man.” Logan had spent the day before in town, buying fabric, and lace, and various other things needed to make the white woman’s dress. He had no idea what he was doing, but he watched some of the younger girl’s and their big fancy dresses walk around with their hair pulled up high. Logan turned toward Fox, looking at her darkened hair, and sighed knowing he was going to ask her to put her hair up. He liked her with her hair down, the endless strands of silky tresses like a shimmering, black, waterfall. He even had an urge now to place his fingers across her face and slip his hands into her hair, to force her closer to him, to taste her lips pressed against his own, to peel the clothing—

BARK!

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan mumbled, ripping his gaze from Fox upon Blue’s insistence. “Open it,” Logan urged, not sure if Fox would even like what the seamstress had come up with. He went back to a bag, taking out something the shopkeeper called a “hair ornament” and placed it with the make-up. He’d explain what it was later. “You get to put on what’s in the box. Not sure how you do it, but it’s what the white women wear.”

Waiting for the Indian to open the package, he watched her expression with interest, holding his breath in fear she would actually laugh at what cost him quite a bit of money for the seamstress to make. It’d just be his luck that she’d think it was ugly but not tell him so. He didn’t want Silver Fox to stick out too much, but at the same time, he also wanted the woman to feel as if she was a princess.

Logan mentally sighed before tossing her another box. “Shoes to go with it. Hope you can walk in high heels.” He threw a thumb to the bed. “There’s a hat in that box, too. Somethin’ all the ladies want to wear. Who knows.”
Silver Fox
 Posted: Jun 11 2017, 08:39 AM
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Foxy Mama


“They call this make-up,” he told her. Make-what?

“Women put it on their face to make ‘em look better, I guess.”

Fox had never worn any such thing, of course. While she did oft mark her face or body up with clays and the like, she had never applied this 'make up' to improve her appearance. Fox approached the items carefully. Logan had laid them out so gently; they must be very fragile. She would have to handle these little things with care. Fox sniffed at the items carefully, nose wrinkling. It smelled strange. She poked at the powder. Her finger came back pale, white even. The woman gave her finger a lick and coughed, making a face. "It tastes awful." Granted, they weren't encouraged to taste the clays and paints they used on their bodies, but who knows? Maybe white women would have liked to have nice-tasting..'make up'. They liked such strange things in white towns. She had been mistaken.

“Powder to lighten your face, lipstick to paint your lips, and some sort of pencil to mark your eyes with.”

Fox opted out of tasting the rest, guessing that it wouldn't be a good idea. The Native American feral picked up the pencil curiously. "I though white men liked to /write/ with pencils? Do they leave the women to draw on their face with the leftovers?"

Such strange customs.

And 'lipstick'. Logan said she was to paint her lips with it. That was the only item that Fox could grasp. Native American women painted the lips too sometimes..but not for looks. "It is a..lot of effort to just improve one's face. Is this part of the white woman's duties? To decorate their faces every day? Or perhaps white men find them too repulsive without it." Native American women were not pressed for such things. Your face is your face. The Great Spirit gave you that face; hiding it with.. 'make up' would probably cause offense. How awful, needing such things to get a husband.

There was another box that Logan had just set down. He gestured to her, indicating that she should handle it.

“Some woman spent most of the morning makin’ that. She kept yellin’ at me to wait until she opened her store instead of gettin’ her outta bed.” -- “She finally gave in. I can be a persuasive man.”

Fox smirked. "I know that fact /very/ well." Not that she had needed much persuading. Fox had been the determined one, in her opinion. It had paid off well, if you asked her. So someone had made her a dress? That suggested that white women also made the clothes as part of their duties. How interesting!

Fox was having a very difficult time with the dress, while Logan was over there contemplating hair styles. Blackfoot women, like most Native American women, either wore their hair down or in two thick braids. Fox, herself, wore it loose. Sometimes she braided it, but she had discovered that Logan very much liked her hair loose. Actually, he seemed to enjoy the act of undoing her braids too. Therefore, as of late, Fox wore it loose most of the time. She braided it sometimes for practicality, and so Logan could undo her work. White women had such strange possessions... Wrapped up in her investigating, Fox was only vaguely aware of Logan's developing 'problem'.

BARK!

Problem solved, right? “Open it,” he said.

"I did." She just hadn't done anything else yet. Fox was staring at the items in the box. What strange material! Her people wore animal skins. This strange material here was foreign to Fox. "What is this made from?" No animal possessed such skin. Fox was vaguely familiar with quilting [and hated it], but the material they used was nothing like this. Especially not as something meant to serve as /clothes/. It had to be something white people had somehow created. Strange..

Fox pulled out the fancy dress, blinking at it. She had, of course, never seen such a thing. How did white women move about with this much material wrapped around them? "White women must be very skilled to do their duties while wearing such clothing." Fox carefully, minding Logan's care earlier, put the dress aside. She frowned at the undergarments, reaching into the box to hold them up. "...?" There weren't even 'panties' or 'bras' amongst the Blackfoot women and so Fox had no idea what she was supposed to do with these things. They went underneath the dress, obviously, but for what? ...and in what order?

"White women must be very sensitive to cold," she concluded out loud. There was [in order of dress] a chemise, drawers, corset, busk, a corset cover, decency skirt, tournure, petticoat/underskirt [2, it seemed], a taille, and the dress had been on top. It all seemed very excessive. She frowned. "Logan, how much did you pay for all of this?" There was so much of it; she felt guilty that he bought so much to indulge her wish to visit town. Native Americans preferred simple trade, but white men used 'currency'. This was only necessary for her people when they ran into white men whose love for money outweighed their prejudice.

“You’ll got to put on what’s in the box. Not sure how you do it, but it’s what the white women wear.”

Very helpful.

“Shoes to go with it. Hope you can walk in high heels.” High what?

“There’s a hat in that box, too. Somethin’ all the ladies want to wear. Who knows.”

"White women have very elaborate clothing rituals. Do they really find it necessary?" She sounded amused. Fox would find it hilarious if she knew that there was actually more than a dozen different dresses that a white woman of this era could wear in just one day. The house dress [obviously just for home], the visiting dress, the walking dress, the afternoon dress [that was the one she had], the toilette de reception [if people visit you], the traveling dress, the riding dress, the cocktail dress, the dinner dress, and several more.

Fox held up the chemise. It was linen, very nice. She took the drawers/bloomers too. "Let us see then." Fox left into another room. The woman might have simply changed right in front of Logan, having no problem with nudity, but past experience indicated that this was a bit too much of a temptation. She had a feeling that she'd never get to town that way.

Moments later, Fox came out in the chemise and bloomers. "You can see right through this," she commented. Indeed, her browned skin stood out a great deal under the thin linen material. This wasn't the case for women of fairer coloring, of course. It didn't cover much either, mid-thigh actually.

Fox looked to the rest. "Do you know what goes..next?" Fooling around with everything, she had gotten the items out of order.
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