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Post by pots on Jul 30, 2011 15:57:57 GMT -5
ONE SHOULD EITHER BE A WORK OF ART [/font] O R W E A R A W O R K O F A R T[/size] ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~[/center] Some people would wake up, and they wouldn't be entirely sure how they had arrived in a particular scenario. Earlier that morning, Jones had been one of such people, staring down in bleary-eyed confusion at the huge brown stain spread across his torso, already dried and ruining his clothes forever. He had no idea where it had come from, though a sniff told him it was coffee he was sporting as an unfabulous accessory. Unfortunately, that had meant that he was down to two waistcoats in his wardrobe, whilst the suggested minimum had always been two. What if he was invited to a semi-formal soiree with a red colour scheme? Neither of the other two would do.
This was how he ended in a random store in town, digging through various racks and trying to spot something that was both decent and would fit him. Pushing aside yet another gorgeous but massive waistcoat, Jones groaned quietly to himself. 'Can a person not be well-dressed and thin? Are only the fat allowed to dress well now?' He thought grumpily, pushing away something that would fit, but was orange, purple, and an abomination against all that he considered right in the world. At this rate he would have to say something to one of the shopkeepers, which was something he was doing his level best to avoid - offending somebody (again) might lead in him being shouted at (again), all of which was a very upsetting situation to be in.
Finally giving up on trying to figure out exactly how things were organised - it wasn't by size, or colour, or brand, or any noticeable thing he could find, he just walked up to the nearest person in the store. "Hi, uh, sorry for talking to you suddenly and all, but. I mean. Do you have any clue how this stuff is sorted? I just. I don't get it."
[/font] ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ WORDS :: 318 TAGS :: love me? OUTFIT :: this minus eyebags and the like, creepy smile. NOTES :: sigh sigh sigh CREDZ :: Quote by Oscar Wilde, template by xreebear of caution two-point-oh, badly altered by me. [/font]
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Post by COININ CLISTE on Aug 5, 2011 13:44:48 GMT -5
She was on a mission to find something decent to wear. Something that hadn’t been dragged across the ocean. Something new, something fresh. Something without Mackenzie’s help. Which was a bit of a pain. Admittedly, she was extremely uncomfortable about shopping alone. She sighed, and flipped through several of the racks, attempting to find something that didn’t look…atrocious.
Bunn sighed, listening to the click of the hangers while the slid them along the metal pole, pausing every so often when a design caught her interest. Then she’d pause to see if she’d wear it—then continue flipping. Maybe she needed Zee’s help anyway.
For a moment, she thought she was dreaming. She heard an accent, and though the accent wasn’t common exactly where she lived—it was from the same part of the world. For a moment, she didn’t feel so horribly alone in a state filled with an accent completely different than hers. Bunny looked up at the person, and was confused for just a moment. He had…really nice hair. It took her a second glance to actually register that it was a boy with bright red hair that was just so damn pretty.
”Hi, uh, sorry for talking to you suddenly and all, but. I mean. Do you have any clue how this stuff is sorted? I just. I don’t get it.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s confusing, isn’t it?” Bunny grinned, not bothering to tone down her own lilt. She brushed past him politely away from the racks of girls clothes, “Men’s pants are organized from your waist size to leg length. The sizes are different here, so you may have to try a few on. Jackets you have Smalls, Larges, and everything inbetween.” She tapped the top of the racks, where a little plastic loop showed exactly the sizes.
Her hand grasped the strap of her purse, and the other dropped to her side. She raised her brows at him, and grinned. It was somewhat easier to talk to him, and she wasn’t entirely nerve wracked to talk to him. He seemed friendly, and just a bit confused. “Did that help at all, or were you looking for something specific?” She asked curiously, biting the insides of her cheeks.
She was not going to think of scary thought. She was not going to think upsetting thoughts. She was going to do this without panicking. Because he was a guy in a store. And the easiest thing she could do, was just walk away.
Notes:emme know if you want me to change something. Outfit: Sunshiney.
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