fandomtownies | Demon Marcus, Sunday

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Demon Marcus, Sunday

Sparkle had lost his sneaker in a mud puddle today on the way to work. Ignoring the fact that he'd cut through the park and wandered off the path to do so, this... kind of sucked. A lot. Especially since he'd tried to go digging for it with his bare hand, because he really didn't want to lose a whole damn sneaker to the whims of a squelchy patch of wet dirt.

Not that it mattered much. His sneaker was basically ruined, and once he'd gotten to work he had retreated to the back room to throw the pair into the burn barrel so that he could sit over it and thaw out his frozen hand. Apparently, today was a boot-shopping day. And the sale sign was maybe a little bit inspired.

Free Pair of Gloves or Mittens With Any Winter Boot Purchase!

Ugh, mud.

[OOC: OCD-free again today!]

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Obi-Wan had been putting this off for very mature reasons that involved not dealing with young people who had met him when he was... off. After a Saturday spent fending off Eggsy's advances, however, he had officially run out of the ability to care, at least for the weekend.

And he was beginning to wear holes in the few robes he had left. There was that, too.

"Good morning," he said, stepping inside.

"Morning," Sparkle chirped, mood brightening visibly once he saw who had come into the shop. "How can I help you today?"

There was a grin there that suggested that he was talking himself out of offering Obi-Wan more shirts with dicks on them.

Obi-Wan repressed a sigh, because even if the grin hadn't been here, he could sense that, young man. "You would not happen to have saved the robes that were left here... last time, would you?"

Oh yeah, Sparkle was practically beaming, now.

"Had a feeling you might want those back sometime," he replied. "We don't normally deal with second-hand clothes, and if you hadn't come back for them soon they probably would've found their way to the burn barrel or something."

Because, let's face it Obi-Wan, Jedi robes were stupid.

"But, unless one of the minions got to 'em, they should still be in the back. Getting a little threadbare, there?"

"That depends entirely on how you look at it," Obi-Wan said. He walked up towards the counter. "If you don't mind, I'd like to pick them up. I had no intention of leaving them here in the first place."

At least they hadn't actually been burned...

They'd come so close, though!

"I should charge you a storage fee," Sparkle laughed, shaking his head but turning to take a half-step through the door into the back room, making a reach for those robes. "Were you really too embarrassed after all the dick shirts to come back here to claim your actual clothes for that long? Fandom happens, man, I get it."

Obi-Wan would be lying if he said that, in this very moment, he did not briefly consider the option of mind-whammying Sparkle into forgetting about the whole thing, at least for the next five minutes.

But no.

"I'm hardly embarrassed," he said, "I simply didn't have need for the robes until now. It is getting a bit cold."

"So... you were hoping that we would just hold on to some random Jedi's clothing until he decided to come back to claim it?" Sparkle's eyebrow was raising a little bit, there. "Do, like, all Jedi make a habit of just leaving their laundry wherever?"

Speaking of said laundry, Sparkle was holding it up, now. Though he wasn't quite in reach of the counter, yet.

"Because, man, I can understand embarrassed. That's either just presumptuous, or just plain short-sighted. Like, we're not actually a Jedi robes drop-off centre. That's what, you know, dressers are for."

"I came here to buy new robes," Obi-Wan said. "I was under the impression the old ones had been burned, but thought it might be useful to see if they were not."

So, so, so, so thoroughly embarrassed.

"Mmmmhm." Sparkle's not-convinced-face, look at it! He did at least set the old robes down on the counter, this time. "You know we don't usually carry Jedi robes, right? Like, we try to keep stock that's weather-appropriate and that anybody can wear, but, um."

He took a moment to just give the clothes Obi-Wan was wearing a long look.

"Those things aren't even practical."

He'd been listening to Atton a lot, lately. Now, Atton's getup? That was both practical, and kind of awesome.

"Anyway, I try not to actually burn stuff that people leave here when they're crazy. That's a good way to get my ass kicked by half-naked people come the Monday after."

Edited 2016-01-17 17:59 (UTC)

"They are practical enough for my purposes," Obi-Wan said, "like not being half-naked."

The actual purposes were largely 'dramatically discarding them at the start of a fight' and 'dramatically pulling the hood over his eyes'. Drama kind of ran in their Jedi bloodline, there.

"But thank you for keeping them," he added. "It is very sensible."

"I try." Sparkle leaned back, amused. "Next time, maybe you could come back a little sooner to claim your dirty laundry, though? I have employees now, and not all of them understand that some robes shouldn't head for the burn barrel right away."

Meaning: Sparkle wasn't going to leave a note on the next set saying they ought to hold on to these ones until Skywalker's boyfriend came in to claim them.

"I'll keep it under advisement," Obi-Wan promised, picking the robes up off the counter. "Should I ask why you even keep a burn barrel...?"

"Store tradition, I think. It was here when I first started working here, back when it actually was owned by a demon. And at least two out of three Demon Marcus employees agree that tasteless clothes are fun to burn."

A pause, and then Sparkle shuddered a little before reaching under the counter and producing some holiday stock that had arrived late.

"In some cases, it's probably actually better that way."

There was a very long pause on Obi-Wan's end as he stared at the shirt.

"... I'm sure that's sacred to... some species." Beat. "Though I'm not certain I'd wish to meet them."

Sparkle's eyebrow just moved upward again.

"I have yet to meet them. And if we get any of them on the island, we'll keep all hideous Madonna-cone snowmen sweaters in stock just for them. But for the time being, we do anybody with even a hint of good taste a favour and we burn stuff like this. For the sake of the sanity of all sentient life in the galaxy."

And also because it was fun and at least somewhat more legal than torching houses.

"You'd be surprised what some sentients consider formal wear," Obi-Wan said, recovering somewhat from the sight of that... that. "Ask Master Rand some day."

"I'll have to make a point to," Sparkle laughed. "That's a rant I want to hear."

"Are you implying that Master Rand is ever anything but perfectly composed?" Obi-Wan asked.

Yes, he'd met Atton.

No, he wasn't serious.

"Can you say that again with a straight face?"

Really, that probably answered that question, right there.

"Possibly," Obi-Wan said, "But no one would take me seriously."

He tucked the robes under his arm as best he could - they were big and heavy. "That being said, I really have seen worse, but I'd rather not root out those memories."

"Hey, I've seen worse getting drunk in my living room just the other week," Sparkle snorted. "I don't need details, it's fine. I have memories."

Anakin's drunk-smile was so stupid it was practically precious.

Obi-Wan, who listened to radio enough these days to have some semblance of an idea as to who Sparkle might be referring to, sighed.

It was a loud sigh. A practiced sigh. A sigh that said volumes about a decade or more of knowing Anakin Skywalker.

"He never did figure out how to hold his liquor."

"He's so squishy," Sparkle cackled, clapping his hands. "It gives me a whole new appreciation for tall, dark, and swooshy."

Mostly an appreciation for him while he was drinking.

"I'll make certain he knows, next time we meet, that someone finds him swooshy," Obi-Wan said, now more audibly amused. "He's always happy to be updated on the state of his hair."

"His hair, his ridiculous robe. Like, Skywalker just isn't Skywalker unless he's swooshing around somewhere."

Even the lightsaber went swoosh! THIS WAS HOW SPARKLE WAS GOING TO SEE ANAKIN FOREVER.

"I'm never certain whether he does it on purpose," Obi-Wan admitted.

What? The boy was right.

"... Have you ever seen somebody do that much swooshing by accident?"

Sparkle was pretty sure people spent their entire lives mastering that much swoosh.

"Occasionally," Obi-Wan said, "Though I can't say I've wasted much time studying the phenomenon."

Anakin was only one small part of a chain of Jedi dating all the way back to Dooku who basically had drama ingrained in their DNA.

... Sparkle kind of wanted to put Anakin into a room with Mical, now, to see who became more scandalized about what first.

"It's okay," he shared. "That's why I'm here. Knowing all about swooshing clothing is literally my job."

"And I'm sure you do a fine job of it," Obi-Wan said. "A Jedi cares not for such things. That's the theory."

"It's a nice theory." Sparkle's smile wasn't quite a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but it was the closest he was going to get. "I'll believe it if I ever meet somebody more swooshy than some of the Jedi I've met."

"I'll choose to believe that is entirely accidental," Obi-Wan said.

He patted the robes. "But I should take my leave."

"If you're in a hurry to leave, man." Sparkle chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "So, see you next time your robes are falling apart?"

Or maybe the next time the island turned people crazy?

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan said, because who needed yes-or-no answers, really? "Send my regards to Master Rand."

Possibly also his condolences.

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Demon Marcus, Sunday

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