fandomtownies | Demon Marcus, Sunday

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Demon Marcus, Sunday

Sparkle was a little less paranoid this week than he had been last, actually venturing out from behind the counter in order to do some tidying around the racks, and then pulling out new stock - autumn stuff was starting to come in, he was absolutely going to be going through it all - to price and put on display.

He got to a box of scarves, and was merrily going through them when he stumbled across a yellow one. Tommy Hilfiger. He eyed it for a few long moments. It sat there being a scarf.

That one, he shoved back into the box for now. He was not dealing with stupid old hurts today. Or this week. Or probably ever. Sometimes, he regretted getting rid of the burn barrel.

Shaking his head, he went to-- bypass the gloves entirely while he was at it, and go through the new boots, instead.

Ah, yes. Boots. Boots were good.

[OOC: Open!]

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Fenris had found directions to the clothing store. He walked in and..

This was not what he'd been expecting. He paused, eyeing the racks with clothing already on them. Usually there were a few displays and then measurements would be taken and the clothing made. That did not seem to be the case here.

He padded toward a rack of trousers. They seemed to be made of a heavier cloth, tightly woven. Pants like Peter had been wearing.

Sparkle put another pair of boots out on the shelf, stood, and--

Oh hi.

Cleared his throat and smoothed down his shirt and grinned a little.

"Hey," he said, giving the very pretty man a polite nod. "Let me know if you need any help with anything in here, okay?"

"I will probably need help with almost everything in here," Fenris noted with wry amusement, "These clothings are unfamiliar to me entirely. I was told if I wanted to blend in more, garments of this realm would be a good idea." He gestured at the jeans. "Peter Octavian said trousers of this sort and a shirt."

After a moment, he added, "With full sleeves."

Humans, man. He was not unfamiliar at all with that look, Sparkle. He managed a polite smile back.

Sorry, Fenris. You were gorgeous, and it wasn't even your ears Sparkle was staring at.

He was getting pretty used to non-human people in general, after all.

"So, jeans and long-sleeved shirts," he replied. "The shirts, with or without buttons?"

Sparkle was now picturing Fenris in a button-down and was absolutely doing an impressive job of not letting that show on his face.

"Both," Fenris said after a moment of picturing that. He gestured at the metal scars on his chin and swept the hand down toward his feet in a straight line down his chest. "The buttons might irritate the scars, but Peter was wearing one."

You're welcome.

Sparkle considered that carefully, sobering up a little as he looked at the lines on the man. Scars, then?

Well.

"We can find you some lighter shirts," he offered. "With smaller buttons. Something less likely to give scars a difficult time."

He hiked up one shoulder a little.

"I've done a bit of experimenting with stuff that doesn't bother scars already," he explained. "Stuff that won't catch or chafe. Considering this place and the sorts of people who come around, I figured it wouldn't hurt to get more of that in stock than most clothing shops."

Fenris tilted his head and reflected on that. "A lot of other fighters around, then?"

Who else had scars?

"I would appreciate it. I've grown accustomed to what you see me in, so things similar would chafe..less."

There really was no way to wear anything tight against the skin without chafing them, and armor wasn't something to wear loose.

"Leather does not appear to be a common fabric option." It rose at the end like a question.

"Lots of fighters," Sparkle confirmed. "And a handful who aren't, but who have a few scars anyway."

Fandom did that. He shrugged again, and then stood and made his way over to some light button-down shirts that he'd ordered in mostly for his own sake. Not that his own shoulder scar bothered him too much these days, but this time a couple of years ago? Eesh.

"Leather's not super common, no, but it's something that people get... usually for jackets and footwear."

He glanced at the man's feet.

"Maybe not so much with the footwear, huh?"

Fenris took in the information and nodded slowly. "I have seen it on jackets. One of your.. police?.. women wore one such."

A glance down at his own feet and a small grimace, "I was not allowed footwear. It has become..habit. If it's the custom here, I should probably also find some." The soles of his feet were like rock at this point.

Not allowed? Sparkle frowned faintly, glanced toward the boot selection, and then nodded.

"If you've never done a Maryland winter before, you'll probably want some warm footwear, just in case. I can try to find you something that won't bite too much there, too."

Fenris glanced at the boots and nodded. "I would not object to something that was protective of my shins. It will be very strange to wear garments that don't contain armor."

"Do we want to start there, then? Get you some boots, work our way up? Or," he considered one of the shirts on the rack in front of him, "give one of these a try, since I'm already here?"

"Shirts first," Fenris said after a moment, "Work my way down. The boots are the least important item. Winter is some months off yet, I hear."

Like, one month.

"Eeeh," Sparkle replied, shrugging. "You have a little time. But you can come in any Sunday if you don't get them today and I'll hook you up whenever you decide you need them, either way."

He pulled a light grey silk shirt from the rack and held it out to him.

"How's this feel? Trying to keep the fabric light without being too sheer."

Fenris casually unstrapped his armored gauntlet and tucked it through his belt. The Lyrium scars traced down his forearm and onto his hands.

He reached out and ..poked the fabric with a finger. Then he watched the way it moved and rippled in the air with a nod.

Sparkle, at least, was the very vision of professional as he turned the shirt around, inspected the buttons on the front of it, and shook his head a little.

"If you find any shirts you like," he said, "I'll replace the buttons with lighter, much smaller ones, free of charge. Are there any particular colours you like?"

"I've no preference. Anything that won't blind people when they look at it," he shrugged, "Peter said you would have suggestions?"

"Deep reds," Sparkle offered. "Dark greens? Black, maybe, but that might make you look a little too punk rock, depending on what you're going for."

... Like some kind of long-eared sex vampire.

"Punk...rock?" Fenris asked with a blink, "What's punk? I know what a rock is."

No you don't.

"..Going for? Work, I presume. Maybe coffee?"

Stop confusing the elf, Sparkle, it's not nice.

Sparkle realized his mistake a moment too late, blinked, and ducked his head a little. Oops.

"Work, maybe coffee," he echoed. "Okay, we'll go for something casual, then, how's that sound?"

There, see, he was being nice again.

"That sounds..fine," Fenris said, trying to wrap his head around himself and casual in the same realm of existence.

"Casual would be good."

Okay, at that, Sparkle had to break into a little grin. He couldn't help it.

"I'm guessing you don't do casual often, huh?"

The, uh, the whole everything was a bit of a hint.

Fenris wordlessly gestured at the leather and metal he was clad in. "I can't recall the last time I did 'casual'."

And that actually did get a bit of a laugh. Nothing at Fenris, per se. Just... in general. Sparkle was giving a friendly smile as he nodded in understanding.

"That armor really does make a statement," he agreed. "Looks great, though." He sobered up faintly. "I don't doubt you'll do it anyway, but make sure you keep easy access to it. Or at least that sword of yours, okay? I don't know what people have told you about this place, but it's one of those places that's quiet right up until it really, really isn't."

"Almost everyone has passed on a warning similar to that one," Fenris assured him, "Neither sword nor armor are my only means of defending myself, should it come to that. The armor, I am willing to remove to adjust my clothing as local custom dictates. The sword will never leave my side."

It had been a gift.

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