fandomtownies | Demon Marcus, Sunday

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Demon Marcus, Sunday

"I hate this place I hate this place I hate this place I hate this place I hate..."

So, Sparkle had survived the mad dash to the Demon Marcus today. Yeah, he probably had Atton to thank for that, and no, he wasn't actually expecting much in the way of business. But the door was unlocked in case anybody needed a quick respite from the toothy storm, and Sparkle was sitting up on the counter with his knees around his nose, because if anything did make it into the shop that wasn't supposed to be there, like hell he was going to have his feet on the floor.

"Hate it hate it hate it!"

Happy Sunday, Fandom.

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Once he left his office, Hannibal had quickly realized that the sharks weren't only in the air, and had tried to find the driest way possible to reach the causeway.

At least it had left him dealing with sharks small enough to get away from, but he was now bruised, battered, and thoroughly soaked. This suit had made it through three murders, two states, and one overly enthusiastic patient, but now it was ruined.

He sighed, eyed the road skeptically, and hurried across it to the clothing store.

When the door opened with a jingle of the little bell, Sparkle's first impulse was to aim the nearest weapon at whatever was coming through it.

So, uh, all fear the might and wrath of the punk kid with the pricing gun. And the four or five stickers marked $19.99 that were hanging in a string from the end of it.

"Oh."

So, the guy running at the store wasn't a shark. That was good to know.

Definitely not a shark. Well, not a literal one.

Hannibal made sure the door was shut securely behind him, for whatever good that did, and eyed the young man pointing the labeling machine at him.

"I think my umbrella is sturdier, but you do have more ammunition. Shall we call it a draw?"

"I might be willing to agree to a cease-fire for the time being," Sparkle replied, lowering the sticker gun and doing his damnedest to look totally casual about that, right there. "I mean, I'm mostly saving it for the hungry fish out there, anyhow. Wouldn't do anyone any good if I used it all up on you."

Because what Fandom truly needed was a shiver of discount sharks flopping around outside the clothing store.

"Not at all," Hannibal agreed. "It's important to conserve your resources. Speaking of which, I wonder if you might have anything dry in my size?" he picked at his very expensive, very wet, very ruined suit.

"In your size?" Sparkle gave Hannibal a thoughtful looking-over from where he was sitting, and then shrugged, slipping down off the counter. "That shouldn't be a problem at all. This place used to be owned by a demon, you know. If you were a walking tree or you had tentacles or something, we'd still have something in your size. You're looking for something like what you're wearing, there?"

It was a pretty snappy suit! Or, er, it probably had been, once.

"That would be lovely, thank you. Do you get many walking trees in here?" He was learning it was best to ask.

"Nah," Sparkle replied, ambling over to the men's suits. "Mostly the weirdest thing that ever walks in here is me."

Because, really, who expected the punk kid to be working in the high-end clothing store in town?

"But, you know, the not-typical-human stock is still there. Just in case maybe the pony or something wants to dress up nice. You don't happen to know your measurements, do you? Or I guess we can eyeball it, I'm usually a pretty good guess."

And he liked playing dress-up. And it kept him from thinking too hard about the sharks outside.

"I have them here." In his wallet. Which was, naturally, soaked along with the rest of him. Hannibal sighed and fished the tailor's card out carefully. "If the ink hasn't run."

Hannibal was perfectly willing to play dress-up. Just so long as the punk look was optional.

Totally optional! Sparkle knew when a certain look wasn't exactly suited to somebody. This guy really didn't look like he would wear torn jeans and plaid anything all that well. He held out his hand for the card, and then squinted at it.

"Is that smudge there meant to be a two, or a five? Huh. No big deal, we'll try both. If one doesn't fit, it's obviously not that one, right?"

Dressup! Dressup it was!

Hannibal glanced back out the window, but it wasn't as if he had any plans today. Beyond not being eaten by a shark. "I suppose we'll find out."

He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. "I don't suppose you have a towel as well?"

[OOC: Old school punk!]

Edited 2013-08-04 21:40 (UTC)

"No towels, but there are plenty of clothes we probably won't be able to sell, if you don't mind mopping yourself up on like a Hawaiian shirt or something," Sparkle replied easily. "We were just going to throw that whole shipment into the burn barrel in the back, anyhow."

Because that was how businesses worked, right?

[OOC: That is fantastic and I made so many squeaking sounds.]

Hannibal laughed. "It would be my pleasure to rid the world of such an eyesore."

[OOC: Mads is awesome! ;) ]

"You're my favourite customer so far today," Sparkle decided, pointing at Hannibal before going to rummage through the shipment box for a handful of Hawaiian shirts. "A man of awesome taste, and you wield a mean umbrella. That's high-class, man. Heads-up!"

And there was Sparkle, tossing a wadded ball of Hawaiian shirts toward Hannibal in an easy underhand.

Hannibal caught the shirts. "That would be more impressive if you'd had more than one, but thank you." He folded his jacket on a space in the corner, his waistcoat following it, and began trying to dry off as much as he could in public.

"I've been wondering if they make steel-reinforced umbrellas. If we have to put up with these sharks for much longer, I don't think this thing is going to hold up."

"Really, something like that should be a staple around this island. It's like every other month something weird falls from the sky, and it's even-odds as to whether or not it's going to try to like eat you."

He started poking through the suits again, looking for something classy in Hannibal's size.

"Anyhow, even one customer is a pretty big deal when there are frigging sharks falling from the sky, you know? I figure that gets you bonus points. Or at least a discount."

"Yes, well, I thought it best not to walk around soaking wet. Knowing this place, I might end up mutating into something horrid."

Because he hadn't learned yet not to tempt the island by saying things like that.

"Oh, damn. Don't say it out loud, man. You'll give this place ideas," Sparkle tsked, pulling a few neatly-pressed suits from the rack and holding them up for Hannibal to inspect. "I guess on the bright side, at least you know we've got selection here for you in case you grow like a tail and an extra head or something."

"An extra head would make things rather difficult." Hannibal frowned at the suits and picked one. A little plainer than he generally cared for, but reasonably neat and not filled with holes.

"This time last week, I was a vampire. And a werewolf before that."

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