A rare break in the clouds was allowing sunlight out to light up the street Caspar walked down. He smiled and raised his face to it, closing his eyes momentarily. This walk felt like nothing, his nagging cough too now a thing of the past. Marvelous.

Suddenly he remembered the time. If the sun was up then...The Assembly would be in session now. Caspar's steps faltered for a moment. Before he could think about it, he quickly pushed the thought away and forced himself to keep moving. That's a mess I just can't afford to work out right now. First things first, new clothes, from there I'll figure out what's next.

He caught a few glances from people and held his coat tighter around himself. Am I really such a sight? I suppose my hair is very visible...perhaps I need a hat?

He hurried onward, relieved when Ludwig's Tailoring came into view. The door opened with the tinkling of a bell as he entered. Merriam, the counter girl, rose from her seat to greet him, putting down her cross-stitch. Her eyes widened at the sight of his face.

"Hello..." Caspar said, suddenly feeling sheepish. She doesn't know me.

"Yes, welcome, come in please." She said, seeming flustered. "How can we help you?"

"Um...I was hoping to be fitted for some clothes?"

"Of course, what were you looking for?" She ran her hands down her skirt and then her eyes met his.

Caspar paused, suddenly uncertain. He'd always just worn whatever Lady Desdemona had picked out for him, and after she'd left, whatever Miss Pella had picked. What do I want to wear though?

"Well..." Caspar scratched behind his ear. "Perhaps you'd better get the tailor, I'm afraid I'm going to need his help picking the style."

Merriam was just staring at him, her face rather blank. "Yes, sir." Then she turned and walked off, her pace stiff and quick.

Caspar narrowed one eye at her back as she disappeared into the shop. Why's she acting so strange? He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, glancing around the shop as he did. He knew the shop well enough; he'd been coming here for seven years as an old man. There was a rack of shoes that went to the ceiling opposite Merriam's counter and Caspar walked over to it to consider the oxfords and brogues before shrugging. My feet are probably the only thing that hasn't changed.

Soon Merriam returned, Mr. Ludwig in tow.

"Ah, hello there lad, I'm Clyde Ludwig." He said, offering his hand. He was a thin older man, dressed well, but not formally, his graying hair slicked back on the sides, with a lock or two hanging down onto his brow.

Caspar shook his hand, an awkward smile on his face. "Erm...a pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm er..." Suddenly Caspar's face blanched as he realized it was quite possible that he couldn't tell them his name. "—in need of some new clothes."

"Of course, lad. Just follow me." Mr. Ludwig turned to show him to one of the fitting rooms. Caspar glanced at Merriam to see her standing still by her counter, staring at him with that same confounding blank look. Thoroughly disturbed, Caspar quickly hurried after the older man, clutching his coat to himself.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Ludwig said as he led Caspar through the racks of clothes. "Merriam didn't really say anything about what you were interested in. Is it a suit for a ball you're looking for?"

"Well, no. Actually I just need some clothes in general, and I'm not sure what to get..."

Mr. Ludwig nodded. "I see. Well every man needs a few good collared shirts and pairs of trousers for starters." He stopped and motioned to a rack of button down shirts in a few colors, and behind it a folded stack of trousers. "After the basics, we can see about the things that distinguish one from everyone else. We have a delightful selection of vests made with different fabrics, in varying colors and patterns. Then there are jackets, top hats, even neckties if that is your kind of style. If something doesn't fit you, I'll make it fit, and if there is something you're looking for that we don't have, I can do special orders."

"Excellent." Caspar nodded, feeling a little less lost. "That sounds excellent, sir."

Mr. Ludwig went to the rack with the collared shirts and picked out a few of the smaller sizes. "Let's start with these, shall we? Right this way, sir." He led him to a smaller room, opening the door and stepping to the side. "After you."

Caspar stepped in, recognizing the long mirrors on each three walls around him, except he did not recognize who he saw in them. He came quickly closer, marveling at his face and hair. "Blimey..." He whispered as he slapped his own cheek.

"Sir? Is everything alright?"

"Oh." Caspar's shoulders shot up in embarrassment. For a moment he'd forgotten that Mr. Ludwig was right behind him. He swung around, his cheeks pink. "Yes, everything is fine. I just erm...haven't seen a mirror in a while."

Mr. Ludwig chuckled. "You'll have to be looking at one every morning soon, lad. It won't be long before you'll need to be shaving."

"Ah...yes I suppose so." Caspar glanced at his face in one of the other mirrors, suddenly wondering if his facial hair was going to come in white too. Bloody hell...

"It's rare to have a customer of your age anymore." Mr. Ludwig continued as he pulled his measuring tape out and motioned for Caspar to take off his coat. "Almost all young men nowadays are in the service!"

Caspar blinked. He hadn't thought of that. Perhaps that was why people were staring at him in the streets so much? "Oh well...I uh...have a condition?" Why was that a question, idiot?!

"Ah, I see." Mr. Ludwig glanced at his hair and then nodded somberly. "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name?"

Caspar pulled his coat away and lay it down on a bench, revealing his overtly baggy clothes. Suddenly the thought that Mr. Ludwig might recognize his own handiwork on his clothes hit him. Think fast! "Oliver Cunnings, sir!"

"Cunnings?" He asked as he stared at Caspar's ensemble. "You wouldn't be related to Caspar Cunnings would you?"

"I certainly would be." Caspar said as he shrugged off his suspenders and instantly his pants hit the floor. "Oops..."

"Visiting the old man then, eh? Would he be your grandfather?" Mr. Ludwig asked as he came around behind him and began measuring his shoulders and breast.

"Yes."

"Well that's nice. He seems to be getting more forgetful every day I hear. You should get your time with him while you can..."

Caspar's face fell as an unpleasant thought hit him. It was so much easier to pretend to be an older man, especially since he'd moved. Now going back to his true age, there was so many things he'd have to deal with. Should I make it out like Caspar died? And really start life anew as...bloody Oliver Cunnings?! But how would I manage a funeral?? Aaahg, I don't know...I need Lady Mona's help on this. She said she'd be back to see me, didn't she?

"Well," Mr. Ludwig was saying as he pulled a pad of paper out of his pocket and penciled something onto it. "I've got your measurements down. Sadly it looks like anything in your waist size isn't long enough for you. You've got some filling out to do, lad! I'll have to let out a hem or two. Shirts shouldn't be too much of a problem, your shoulders are fairly broad."

"Sir." Caspar said, turning to face the older man. "Can you have those pants ready by tomorrow? I really need some clothes."

Mr. Ludwig's expression suddenly changed. "Yes, sir." He replied, sounding a bit lost.

Uncomfortable, Caspar looked to the two shirts Mr. Ludwig had brought in. "So can I have these then? They'll fit you think?"

"Yes. Take them." Mr. Ludwig dropped his pad to the ground and scooped them up to shove them into Caspar's arms. Caspar froze, Mr. Ludwig towering over him, standing too close for comfort. He was suddenly terrified of how Mr. Ludwig's eyes were boring themselves into his with that flat, glassy look.

"Bloody Hell, get back!" Caspar managed.

The older man reacted so suddenly and with such a force as to throw himself back into the mirrored wall behind him. Caspar cried out in surprise, whereas Mr. Ludwig made no noise at all, his face still blank. His heart in his throat, Caspar pulled up his pants and grabbed his coat, making a quick retreat from the fitting room.

Tripping over the hems of his low hanging pants, Caspar raced as fast as he could to the front of the store. He found Merriam sitting behind the counter, working on her cross-stitch again.

"Miss Merriam, I'd like to buy these." He said hurriedly as he put the two shirts down on the counter.

She looked up, and he watched her face change again. "Yes, sir." She rose stiffly from her seat and dropped her cross-stitch, which Caspar could now see was a scene of flowers, to the floor.

"No! Stop that!" Caspar said in a panic as he began backing away. "What's wrong with you?! Pick up your cross-stitch, be normal!"

Merriam bent down and in one jerky movement was up again, holding her cross-stitch. "What would you have me do now?" She asked in that faraway sounding tone.

Caspar swallowed, feeling the panic rising. Why is this happening? What's wrong with them? I—I have to get out of here!

He rushed out the door and onto the street, instantly bumping into a passerby.

The man turned. "Hey watch where you're...Criminy!"

Caspar followed the man's gaze and realized that in his panic his coat was still on his arm, and he once again was exposing his underwear to the world. It seemed to only take a moment for everyone in the street to notice and stop what they were doing to look at him.

Caspar's face turned beet red. "Stop—DON'T LOOK AT ME!" He cried.

Instantaneously, the whole crowd, everyone on the block it seemed, straightened and with jerky movements turned themselves away from him.

"Oh no...oh no no no." Caspar whispered to himself in horror. He made a run for it down the street, and was even more disturbed as the people he passed practically spun in circles just to be sure they weren't facing him.

"STOP IT!" He screamed, as he came to a halt. "ALL OF YOU!"

And with those words they all turned to face him once more. The same look, the same face, the same eyes, all boring into him.

Silence.

It was as if they were waiting for something. Wanting something from him. But Caspar wanted nothing from them but to leave him be. His eyes wild and his chest heaving, he suddenly felt claustrophobic, as if there wasn't enough space, enough air, all he could see was their blank faces, all around him, everywhere, he had to escape! He had to get away!

A/N Poor Caspar :'(