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extra post for shop use

I heard in the shop that this'd be extended, so I thought I'd enter! I didn't see a form, so I made one up.

Name: Scaramouche Fandango
Bandit's name: Viola
Prompt Number: 2
Prompt Response:

Viola, a rather young and coquettish female bandit, was more irked than excited about this gathering. She'd heard stories from her friends and family about the glories of fairground food, but all the trash cans she'd found had either been covered or empty, save for a few crumpled napkins. She'd come at dawn, hoping to find the spoils of last night, but they were gone. Frustrated, she threw herself into a tall cardboard box, the sort often used as a waste can. This particular one seemed to be the refuse from a costumer or a food stand; it was quite full of ribbons, strings, and ripped bits of brightly-colored cloth. Digging through the fabric, she quickly became annoyed as no food seemed to be found. This was a carnival! Carnival meant cotton candy, hamburgers, corn on the cob... but all she could get her hands on was ribbon! As she found more and more cloth, she began to slow her search. In the dim light of the box, her eyes adjusted to the low light. What she saw was pleasing; very pretty, nice ribbon, and it was very pure white. It would look lovely in her fur, and she began to be glad that it wasn't covered in food. That, after all, would stain and ruin it. She began to pick through the scraps of fabric, selecting ribbons with a cut that would tie nicely into bows, while digging ever-deeper in her quest for a snack. But as she was looking through the larger pieces, heavy, two-legged footsteps came near. Footsteps meant trouble. Panicking, Viola had to make a choice. Vanity, or food?

Vanity. As the footsteps drew nearer and nearer, Viola forgot about searching for breakfast. Instead, she grabbed what she could carry and bolted. She'd grabbed fabric; she could feel it trailing behind her, but wasn't sure at all what kind of fabric it was. Turning down an alleyway made of the space between a few game booths, the raccoon ducked into the shadows and dove into a barrel, watching the shadows of the humans all the while. Her heart hammering against her furry chest, she breathed a sigh of relief as the shadows passed over her hiding place. A lace-edged purple tablecloth, light patterned on one side and dark on the other, a wide white ribbon, and two thinner ribbons. Hmm. She turned the tablecloth over in her paws, chittering and clicking at it. Ribbons, those she knew how she could use them, but what good was an unstained tablecloth? She'd been hoping that there would at least be some crusted sauces, if not crumbs and scraps. But as she ran her paws over the fabric, she began to form an idea. A slow smile crossed her muzzle as she felt the cloth. Even though it didn't come with dinner, she knew how she could use it to get dinner... Viola unrolled the tablecloth inside her barrel, carefully keeping it as clean as she could. The barrel was a good choice of hiding place; it contained a few coils of rope, and was quite a comfortable place to sit and work. Normally she slept during the day, but she was willing to pull an all-nooner to ensure that this would work. Deft hands worked the ribbons while nimble fingers pulled and tugged at the gauzy fabric. Just as the sun reached its zenith, she finished. Exhausted and smiling, the little raccoon curled up in the coils of ropes, hoping that the carnival hands wouldn't see her. She nestled into her new possessions; at least this way, if she was spotted, she'd look like part of the collection of items stored in this barrel.

Dark soon came, and with it, wakefulness. Viola yawned and stretched as her stomach rumbled. It was time for her work to pay off. She slipped the former tablecloth over her head. She scrabbled out of the barrel and searched for a still puddle, perhaps where some careless human had dropped a water bottle, in which she could examine herself. While she found no such puddle, she managed to catch a nice glimpse of her reflection in a pane of glass leaning against a tent. The tablecloth, once tattered around the edges and discarded, was no longer even remotely recognizable. Instead, a lovely dress flowed around her lithe frame, sashed with a creamy white ribbon. The puff sleeves were darling, and the deep purple reverse poked through the slits ever so cunningly. Nobody would ever have guessed it was a tablecloth. Tweaking the bows on the ends of her now-styled hair, Viola swished her tail and set off for the alleyways, careful not to get herself dirty. She knew she'd never looked prettier or daintier, and, with her fanciful stylings, she looked like part of the carnival. It gave her an almost exotic air, and she knew that she was the center of everybody's attention. As she heard the other bandits get quiet as she strode along confidently, flirting her vine-patterned tail and fiddling with her ribbons, she smiled to herself. She could see the males watching her with wide eyes and slack jaws. She was the prettiest bandit there and she knew it, and she knew also how many males would jump at the chance to get her whatever tidbits she wanted. Indeed, the tablecloth would bring her a delicious carnival dinner.