[center][h1][b][color=f26522]LARES[/color][/b][/h1][/center]
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In a distant corner of the Divine Palace a room moved. 

With further observation it could be determined that it did not move much; four hands, to be exact, with the back wall moving away from its counterpart across the way. The change was simplistic and arguably entirely aesthetic, mostly succeeding at shifting the feng shui of the room to more fitting harmony. The rest of the room was empty, of course, and so the exact flow of the chamber remained untouched. But, doubtlessly so, the room had experienced a change worth noticing and noting.

Yes. The room was better.

Four doors down the hallway and another thing altered. The doorway that led into the room shifted, gaining a window that looked into it. This particular door led to one of the Palace’s great libraries, after all, and libraries should be observable and welcoming. Within the lighting began to shift as lamps and sconces moved along the wall to slightly altered positions while bookshelves grew, shrank, or stretched. The floor, previously left open for easy access, grew tables and chairs like trees, sprouting up all across the floor. The gentle creak of floorboards filled the room, with ladders and steps rolling out onto themselves to give access to the tallest bookshelves and lead to the newly unfurling catwalk that wrapped around the upper level. In mere moments the room had grown from a room to store books into a welcoming space for learning and companionship.

That was when it happened.

An ottoman, frankly one of maximum comfort and coziness, hopped. It had been a shard at some point, the ottoman realized, but now it was an ottoman. The loveseat that stood domineeringly behind it, its pair, didn’t seem to realize that it was a loveseat, however. 

The ottoman was displeased. 

The ottoman moved on all fours to indicate clearly to its partner that it should not only be aware that it was a loveseat, but moreover that it had a valued role in the comforting embrace of this particular room in the home. It couldn’t speak, of course- it was an ottoman, after all- but it was sure it was doing a magnificent job elucidating this radical new ideology of furniture-relativism to its compatriot. And yes, much to the Ottoman’s displeasure…

The loveseat remained entirely unmoved.

Unacceptable! This state of being simply could not continue, as despite being an object spawned for comfort and coziness, the ottoman simply could not convince the loveseat of the same. Perhaps it was due to the lack communication beyond the rough impacts shared between the ottoman and the loveseat. By the Great Divine, the ottoman had even received a sense of romantic bliss from this new partnership, but clearly the loveseat simply couldn’t understand. No matter, loveseats always were more focused on the simple things. The ottoman, no doubt, could solve this in other ways.

The four wooden feet of the ottoman flexed. It was a slow flex, as if shaking off this “being made of wood” thing, but it was definitely a flex. The flex then became a full stretch and with the sound of popping corks each of the legs went from hardwood to something softer, more welcoming. But, more was needed. The smooth surface of the hardwood legs grew fur in big tufts that popped out explosively before becoming for more fuzzy and welcoming. From there the ottoman stood, shaking itself off. Cushions then stretched and shifted, needing to match the new aesthetic rather than continue to awkwardly clash. It took only moments for the growth to be complete, but in that flash of awareness the ottoman grew from a simple but comfortable piece of foot-rest to a fuzzy, adorable looking mustelid-creature. 

Two ears perked up as the amalgam critter took proper address of its surroundings. Yes, it was far easier to perceive the feng shui of the room. Little claws ran through the fur of the ottoman- scratch that, such terminology was no longer correct- the critter’s lighter colored tummy. He, for he was fairly confident he was a he, purred in contentment. Yes, this would work far better. With that, the creature turned on its back paws as it stood on all fours to address the loveseat.

[color=f26522]“My love,”[/color] cooed the furry little ferret-otter-wolverine-thing, [color=f26522]“You are a loveseat; a wondrous, magnificent example of your lineage. Yes. Very good.”[/color]

With this assertion complete, the varmint-fuzzball was pleased. With paws on his hips he stood imperiously in the room, confidence practically illuminating the entire chamber. In fact, that was exactly it; a beaming disc glowed behind his head, a halo of perfect housing wisdom. Fitting! With his young love set straight, and the room complete, he was left with a great deal of freedom. This was a strange feeling, admittedly, as until that very moment he had been an ottoman with no ambitions other than convincing his loveseat partner that it was a loveseat, and a good one at that. But what was there now? What possible direction could he take?

[color=f26522]“Well, this simply won’t do, no, no, no,”[/color] frowned the adorable, lovable, cozy, no-brainer addition to any given household, [color=f26522]“We simply cannot let this continue! Admittedly, how could one go back to being a simple ottoman when opportunity like this is presented? But what to do…”[/color]

The soft padding of feet filled his ear. It took a few moments to realize that it was his own paws carrying him down the hall, back on all fours like his old ottoman self, but it was definitely him! The door opened before him, knowing well its honored place to open and close, and the fuzzy creature was suddenly out in the hallway. His eyes widened as doors presented themselves and in an instant he knew each one by heart, in and out, to every perfect detail. Each was unique, special, and deserved love and care to reach their greatest potential! He knew, instinctively perhaps, that this place was not simply a place but something more. It contained things, perhaps other ottomans, and they did not simply exist within but belonged here. Most of all, he knew in his little mind that someone in particular called this place “theirs”. Their what?

Home.

That’s what this was! A home! A mighty one, admittedly, of such massive scale that it would outshine any and every home ever to be born from this point onward, but a home nonetheless. A mighty palatial abode that would house many, that was for certain, and in that moment the mustelid-creature knew that it was a home HE was meant to keep! He was to be the Chamberlain of this great palace and, indeed, of every home born in its image. Much work would need to be done, of course, but HE would be the lares of this Palace.

[color=f26522]“Lares! That’s it! I am Lares!”[/color] asserted, evidently, Lares with an authoritative point to the sky with his adorable little paw. A momentary pause and his paws dropped to his little chin, scritching, [color=f26522]“Whatever that is…”[/color]

The sound of voices could be heard down the hall, echoing in a way only the lare of a home could hear, and Lares’ fuzzy ears perked up at the chorus. People! Yes, a home was only a home because of people. It was, after all, for them. Switching between two and four legs in equal measure as he hopped, skipped, and loped down the halls, Lares’ tail flapped excitedly. Yes, he needed to meet these people; it was for them, after all, that he would serve so diligently!

With that Lares went hurtling towards others, excited to meet the occupants of the almighty Palatial Home! 
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[hider=Summary] 
A room changes! Followed by another! A whole library is warped and changed to be more of an intellectual smoking room for learning in comfort. From within the new smoking room an ottoman is born that confidently believes that it is an ottoman, and the loveseat made with it is a loveseat. Seeking desperately to convince its fellow of this fact, the ottoman warps itself into a small divine-critter. Thus is born Lares, the first lare, the Divine Chamberlain. Lares then wanders off into the Divine Palace to make himself available to the occupants, particularly the Monarch of All.
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