Sparkle (
myownface) wrote in
fandomtownies2018-05-13 07:09 am
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Demon Marcus, Sunday
Sparkle was antsy today. For a few reasons, really, not the least of which being that he was going to be heading to Coruscant tonight, partly to play buffer between Atton and Mical, partly because he actually found himself missing the place, and partly just because he was telling himself that he could. It had been almost two years since that thing with the Iridonic Horn, and if two years wasn't enough time to get his head around something that he knew, logically, probably wouldn't happen again, then he never would.
And he couldn't afford to keep writing off even those places that had been good to him up until some fluke caught him off-guard.
The other reason, and this wasn't a small one either, was the stupid holiday today. Which he'd forgotten about until he came in and some little kid wandered in looking for something nice for a gift, and he wound up spending twenty minutes going through cute scarves, kind of resenting everything. It wasn't the kid's fault, and so he'd been polite and helpful the whole time, but if any of his customers came in and asked him what he was planning for Mothers Day, he was going to lose it.
Anyway, Demon Marcus was open, and the end of Sparkle's shift couldn't possibly come quickly enough. Shit.
[OOC: Open!]
And he couldn't afford to keep writing off even those places that had been good to him up until some fluke caught him off-guard.
The other reason, and this wasn't a small one either, was the stupid holiday today. Which he'd forgotten about until he came in and some little kid wandered in looking for something nice for a gift, and he wound up spending twenty minutes going through cute scarves, kind of resenting everything. It wasn't the kid's fault, and so he'd been polite and helpful the whole time, but if any of his customers came in and asked him what he was planning for Mothers Day, he was going to lose it.
Anyway, Demon Marcus was open, and the end of Sparkle's shift couldn't possibly come quickly enough. Shit.
[OOC: Open!]
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She gestured with her hand. "Anyway, I won't bore you with this."
Sparkle was getting a bit too lecturing.
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Seivarden was getting a little too bitchy. Sparkle shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, you know where everything is," he replied. "I'm not going to hold you up."
That's right, Seivarden. You told Sparkle within five minutes of coming into his shop that you'd have him lobotomized for painting his nails. You got to figure it out yourself.
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She looked around the shop, then walked closer to the glove shelf. "Did you say whether you had any thin gloves? For summer use?"
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Sparkle sighed and tried not to roll his eyes.
"I ordered in a whole selection," he said, "just in case."
In case the one person on the island who always insisted on covering her hands came in.
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"What do you think would be a nice colour for summer gloves?"
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"For summer? I don't know... light green? Maybe a minty colour," Sparkle suggested. "You wouldn't have to worry about grass stains or anything, either."
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"I'm not sure there's a standard for fashionable gloves around here," Sparkle pointed out. "Just go with what you feel best about. You're the one who has to wear them."
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She meant this, but part of it was also trying to distract them both from the previous subjects.
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"So be the trendsetter. Put on whatever you like. Nobody around here's going to care, anyway, they're all coming from somewhere different."
Really, the only person he'd ever seen get so vehemently upset about other people's clothing was her.
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She glanced at Sparkle, not really sure why she was telling him this.
"Maybe I should have may nails painted underneath them," she snorted. "How decadent."
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"Shake it before you use it," he said. It'll dry all funny otherwise."
Yeah, his fingernail was going to be gross and tacky until he could clean it off, all because he'd been trying to make a point.
"It'll match those gloves."
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Oh, it would be fun to have someone to show those painted nails to, among other things.
She gave a short laugh. "You're actually able to paint you own nails?"
Seivarden's nails was going to look terrible.
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Look, he used to work at Dite's. Nail polish was nothing.
"Maybe I'll just throw in some cotton swabs and nail polish remover so you can practice at it."
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"Please," she said. "I'd like to see."
She wasn't really sure why she would pain her nails at all.
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"I'll show you how to clean them off again first, then," he replied. "You'll probably end up doing this part a lot until you get the hang of it."
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"Is this a popular thing?"
She hadn't been looking much at people's hands.
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He opened the cap on the bottle of nail polish remover and poured some of its contents into a cotton swab, putting the cap on the bottle again almost immediately.
"When you're doing this in the apartment, you might want to open a window," he added. "This stuff is foul."
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It was hard to notice when you couldn't figure out pronouns without asking.
As Sparkle opened the bottle, she wrinkled her nose slightly. "It does smell foul."
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"It's not meant to smell pretty," he noted. "It has to be something that can eat into the varnish, you know? See? It just kind of rubs off, and the stuff evaporates pretty quickly, too."
Which was good, because he didn't want it chilling out on his nails while he tried to paint them again or something. He started working through the purple nails, too, until his fingernails looked... weirdly naked, to him. Jeeze.
"Wanna help me pick a colour?"
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Seivarden did her best not to show that she felt a little awkward. She looked at the bottles.
"Orange?" she suggested, picking a bright colour.
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He unscrewed the cap, demonstrated how to get that extra drip off the little brush back into the bottle and then held up his hand, painting his thumbnail first.
"In straight strokes from the cuticle to the tip," he instructed. "You don't want too much at one time, or things get messy and it takes forever to dry." He painted his next finger the same way. "Just like that. If you do paint your nail the way you like it but you get some on your skin, you can use more of the remover for a kind of spot-clean. It's cheating, but whatever, it still looks fine."
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"That looks easy enough," she said. "Which means it's probably like cooking eggs."
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He held up the bottle. "I have like eight more nails. If you want to try it."
He didn't expect she'd take him up on that offer. But whatever, he was going to offer anyway.
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"I think I should practice at home," she said, unable to wonder whether Sparkle partly had made the offer to make her uncomfortable.
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