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rusty, finally making a thread? you bet.... I haven't seen anything like this before, but obviously, if an IC thread like this exists, then let me know so I can lock this thread!!
anyways. the title of the thread makes the prompt pretty self-explanatory. your OC goes shopping with the OC above. what happens? do they get lost? does one try to shoplift? do they buy so much that they can barely carry their bags? the possibilities are endless!!
once the game starts, it should be like this:
Brown: I'm first, bitches. // You are absolutely terrible at this shit. Never go out with me ever again.
Fitzgerald: I... I think I accidentally bought several market stocks instead of the gallon of chicken stock like you asked? Please don't kill me. // The aisle's that way, miss.
Dolores: Do you mind telling me where the aisle for the baked goods are? I think I'm lost... // Oh, I can lend you my cart! Those bags look heavy...
...
and so forth!!
now.... the rules....
- this thread is meant to be non-age restricted, so keep all content SFW!! this extends to both shoppers' actions AND what they're shopping for, so I'll personally nerf any shopper who does some 18+ action, or one who tries shopping for 18+ items. any sensitive content such as gore, drugs, and so forth should be spoilered or blacked out like this!!
- this is somewhat related to the first rule, but... even if I don't expect a lot of romantically oriented replies, only go for the romance or flirting route if both characters are and look 18+!!
- I highly recommend claiming your post before you reply so you don't get ninja'd!! however, if your claim is left unfilled for 6 hours, you can be skipped so that the thread doesn't get stalled.
- please put effort into your responses.... you don't have to be super detailed and describe everything that happens, but your response should have a minimum of five sentences, and you should show that you read the other character's bio.
- wait until three people have posted after you until you post again, or wait for 12 hours to pass!! also, please try not to claim the same person/character too often for the sake of variety.
- follow-ups aren't required, but they're highly encouraged!! as a result, try not to write the above character's reaction for them!!
- this should be self-explanatory, but be respectful!! it's okay to be rude to the OC (since, you know, snarky OCs exist), but don't be an asshole to the user of the OC, or I'll also nerf you.
the first poster gets a freebie, but if several hours pass without a post, then I'll kick it into gear myself. have fun!! >:)c
would you rather watch a movie instead? check out this thread!!
want to go on a vacation? check out this thread!!
Spoilerizing due to length! I wrote a whole ton here!
Zinnia must be one of the most unknowingly lucky girls in the world, with how many random older princes (or former princes, in Artemis's case) and authority figures she had run into. Most of them were pretty relaxed and open, but this one was different. He didn't appear interested in anything that was going on as the two strolled down the cavernous mall. In fact, he didn't even seem interested in interacting with her. Was it the 11-year age gap between the two? Did Zinnia say or do something that lead to Artemis giving her the cold shoulder? She didn't know, and as much as she wanted to convince herself that she didn't care, she really did care about making the elder party comfortable around her.
Zinnia was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost didn't notice that Artemis stopped walking. Abruptly halting in her spot, Zinnia turned her body back around and shuffled back to Artemis. She glanced over at his face—noticing that the man appeared deep in thought. Pondering on what Artemis was looking at, Zinnia abruptly shifted her gaze back into the window that separated the two from the shop. The girl then reached her hand up and tapped a finger against the elder party's shoulder. Upon confirming that she had gained his attention, Zinnia hovered her finger above the glass, pointing at one of the multiple articles of clothing on display.
"Ooh, I think that would look nice on you, sir!" the teenager squeaked, continuing to point ahead.
"That shade of blue would look lovely with all that purple and black you're wearing. What do you think?" Zinnia's smile abruptly shifted into a frown upon hearing his response. Okay, she didn't expect him to be so crass. The girl remained silent before pointing at another article of clothing inside of the store.
"Oh! I like that. Do you think that would look nice...on me?" the teenager continued. Upon hearing the elder party's response, she allowed her lips to curl back into a straight face.
"I'm sorry, I'm just—I'm so excited, I rarely go in the mall! Here, you know what? Let's go get something to eat before we keep going. Do you have anything on your mind?"
"Let me get this straight..." mused the middle-aged woman aloud while holding up a shopping list. Goodness, did she regret writing that out in hindsight. All of the items looked like gibberish to her, if only because she had the absolute fucking worst handwriting on the planet; it seemed that she could only read it when working on research, but... This wasn't research. She was just getting food. And she just so happened to take someone along with her... Her eyes traveled down to the teenage girl for a moment before glancing over to the list, then Spot perching himself on her shoulder.
Clicking her tongue against her palate, Rochester attempted to recount the items from her memory, grunting, "You want some cookies, a bag of chips, and a bag of cat food... And I am supposed to get some fruit? Like watermelon and pomegranate..." Wait, why did I even think of pomegranate? Rochester stared back at the list and its written-out gibberish. I can only eat the seeds... Not the flesh.
Unfortunate.
"Yes, I believe pomegranate can work," she reassured herself before looking back down at the other and sniffing, "Are you sure you don't need help finding anything, by the way? This isn't your normal corner store, you know." And accordingly, Rochester looked up at the blaring white lights of the supermarket. She squinted. Artificial light was always the worst, and having to walk under it for who-knows-how-long as going to kick her straight in the ass. Still, if it meant feeling less guilty about all those secrets she had given up in the past...
Spot gurgled and squeaked on her shoulder while Rochester continued explaining, "This building was established fairly recently... If I remember correctly, commercialized districts like this did not become very common until after the Bourgeois Revolution. Before then, bazaars and other small-scale markets were more common. Funny how technology works, huh? It's funny being in the middle of history being made, and yet it just feels like everyday life... I bet you would take this for granted until you read back upon it in some history book decades later." With a hearty laugh, the middle-aged scientist ran her fingers through her hair before offering a flutter of her eyes.
"But honestly, I kind of miss the bazaars..." mumbled Rochester before looking back over in the girl's direction, just to see if she was following along and having a good time, "They have a far more welcome atmosphere, you know..." Rochester paused for a moment, then turned to face her, the list seemingly no longer mattering while her eyes shone.
"You know what?" she proposed, "I think you'd actually do better in an open-air market. You can find all sorts of interesting goods there, cookies included. How about that?" She paused for a moment, then looked back forward. "Let's just get this done with, though... I have a feeling the store will get crowded soon, if we don't rush."
thank you for the double duty pickle.... 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️
here is my follow-up. Rochester doesn't lose her mind.... yet.
If only Rochester was old as fuck this time, so she could rat him out for being the shittiest chauffeur on the planet... And also be confused as to how he looked the same even though she looked nothing like the middle-aged woman he had stumbled into all those years ago - or something like that.
But alas, chronology was a bitch, and so the younger woman - with her slug perched on top of her shoulder - glared at the other party while he gave his surroundings a glimpse through his usual half-lidded gaze. They almost seemed hypnotic, though Rochester herself certainly wasn't one to comment much on the matter. She just tickled Spot's chin when he gurgled and gave her ponytail a nudge.
"I am pretty sure you cannot drive when you are asleep," she dryly replied to him with a wave of her hand, before sighing and skimming through the labels of each tea canister. He was right; there sure as hell was a lot of tea leaves to choose from. But that was the literal reason why she was here in the first place, and his voice sounded like he didn't care. He didn't care!? Rochester gave him another glare.
How dare he!? After all that time...
Heaving out an exasperated sigh, Rochester barely acknowledged him going through the labels while she attended to her own shopping. She was just looking for relatively basic leaves: oolong, black, green... Sure, they were also rather notorious for being brewed into "herbal water" because they were so stupidly cheap that it was also easy to overcook them and render them into bitter, flavorless mush, but Rochester wasn't like other girls. She knew what she was doing.
She, therefore, winced when he picked up one of the canisters and started to read through the... The really long, really specific label.
The middle-aged woman sniffed in warning, "You're getting to the tea that those youngsters tend to get to-" She cut herself off, suddenly realizing how young he looked. Hoo boy... With a grimace, she looked back at the canister of oolong tea she was holding earlier, before frowning and rubbing her chin. Spot squeaked while she continued, "I mean... I agree, but the flavor might be interesting. Just take one of the simpler labels if you get off-put like that so easily. They're surprisingly popular, from my experience." And with a shrug, she set the canister down. No oolong today.
Rochester raised her brows when he mentioned coffee. The sacrilege of this fellow! Biting down some sharp words, she nodded numbly to his words while continuing to file through the inventories. Jasmine, earl grey, mint... Her nose wrinkled before she finally picked up the canister of oolong from before and nodded to herself in contentment.
"I'll try, I guess," she grunted to him with an obvious drawl of nonchalance, "I just have no idea whether my home city really has that many coffee shops- I mean, there are a lot, but not a lot I know." Rochester froze when he mentioned how quickly she was moving. In spite of her increasing irritation, he did have a point... She hadn't received a call yet from anyone, except from Spot, and he was on her shoulder. But Rochester sure as hell wasn't going to take his offer of unwinding, as she shook her head harshly.
"No, no, no," growled the middle-aged woman while biting on her lip, "No. I am not. I do not care what you do, but for me... I will get some tea, and then I will go back to my lab. There is too much at stake for me to neglect anyway..."
Ghostly-707 - hey, as the mod of this thread, I'd like to remind you to read the rules before posting!! your reply should have at least five sentences, and you should be replying to the post directly above you (which would be mine in this case)- u_u
also, this is a somewhat belated edit, but.... I noticed that your character's bio indicates she's a teenager, while the character you replied to is an adult. please refrain from flirty/romantic interactions unless BOTH characters are and look like adults. ^^"
(SKIP ME; THIS IS A MOD POST.)
There were so many damn people. Feeling more so forced than willing to accompany the younger man by command of the lord, here Zuri was waiting on him, awkwardly looking around the closed market, and making certain that she faced the aisle shelves rather than where the artificial lighting could be cast upon her face. Hm, yes, this is some... nice WalMart we're having today, huh..?
Sending an uneasy glance towards the man she lingered next to, she had half the mind to bitch at him to hurry up -- really, it was a shame that he wasn't as hasty as she would have preferred, but hey, what else was she supposed to do? Sit and stay quiet? That wasn't for her. Certainly it didn't take this long to buy colored pencils and notebooks? Alas, she continued to wait, the words on her tongue but not yet drawn out of her, as she already found something else to occupy her attention. A packet of stationary with ferns and flowers growing at the bottom of the pages. For two whole seconds, she considered treating herself, but the shuffling behind her dragged her attention away at last.
She looked to Nikolai, her one eye narrowed as it focused on the supplies he had been digging through, and as it tried to fend off the harsh light overhead.
"I can carry everything for you." She told him, although she sounded a tad too desperate to. Anything if it meant leaving and going home and dying and not coming back to life until evening. Right now was a bit too bright and early for her to manage. "Don't worry about me, of course. I can lift a goat." Are we sure of that? ..Not really. Anyone who knew her also knew that she was beginning to slack in the strength department, but hey, maybe she could indeed lift a goat.
Zuri reached out, taking the school supplies in her arms and turning away from Nikolai. She assumed he was tired, too. He had those half-lidded eyes, expression in an almost dream-like state. Because of that alone, she prayed he was just as ready to get the fuck out of WalMart.
Zuri had never seen a WalMart until now. She was pretty sure she fucking despised it.
"Please don't tell me you have more to pick up." she then piped, exasperated, "I must get home and..." There was a pause. "Feed my cats."
you are my child now
Wraith to the rescue.
Zuri really was struggling. She didn't consider herself short, but she was short enough right now to not be able to reach the top shelf. It didn't help that every time she craned her head back to get a better look of the bag she was struggling to get to, a beam of light stained itself into her eye. She flinched away each time, pausing to rub at the left side of her face. Gods forsake this place. She should have just stayed home and cut up leftover rabbit and fowl for all four of them. It wasn't like they got hungry often, anyways. They fattened themselves on the pests scurrying around the chateau. So, why was she trying to get kibble?
Because she was curious. She had passed by the pet aisle a few times before, but only until now did she slip in to grab a bag. It was tiresome, really, and she was on the verge of giving up and resorting to the aforementioned cut-up rabbit and fowl, but then the younger man made his approach. She noticed him out of the corner of her eye, and at which point she shied away to let him snatch the bag from the top shelf.
"Thank you." she sighed, "But, I agree. I've never been fond of the sun, and the light here is..." She paused, unsure of how to describe it for a moment. "It's not like candlelight. It hums, and it burns."
As she cradled the sack in her arms, she looked up at Wraith tiredly, her shoulders slouching. She glanced over his scars for only a moment, before deciding that it was rude to stare. He was a curiosity, but there was no need to pry -- especially when he could just yank the cat food out of her arms and put it back on top of the shelf if he didn't like it. So, she shuffled closer to him. She wasn't the one to be escorted, usually, but it wouldn't hurt to stick by him for now.
"I'm about done here, I think." she told him, "All I need now is..." She paused as she glanced at the bag, thinking again. You know what she should have done? Brought a damn shopping list. "I need butter and vanilla extract, sir... And the eggs." She wanted to get some baking in by tomorrow evening, as she assumed she would have the tiniest bit of free time before her duty struck her in the face again.
Zuri glanced up at Wraith again, and asked him, "Would you like anything for yourself? I can pay, surely..."
Wraith didn't like supermarket shopping, he saw no point in it; he could easily catch his own food or at least scavenge things in bins that were thrown out just because 'it looked funny' or didn't fit the 'supermarkets size or shape standard'. In fact he rarely went shopping at all, unless it was to get first aid supplies such as bandages, antiseptic spray and stitches, or if he needed new spray paints. He didn't own any furniture, he didn't even own a bed, he made do with a couple of dusty mats as he slept in a dusty and abandoned building. He managed to live a basic lifestyle and managed to upkeep a basic standard of hygiene and health so he could go out in public without anyone paying attention to him, well, if you don't count those who stared at his scars that is. He had no need for going into shopping areas.
So why was he here?
Well, he noticed that a target of his was often seen in a similar area to where this person was, who he later found out was called Zuri, so he followed and noticed her getting what looked like cat food.....quite a lot of it actually. However what caught is attention was they seemed to be struggling whenever they looked up into the bright artificial lights, since the cat food they needed was on one of the upper shelves. Frowning slight he cautiously approached, now seeing that they were wearing an eyepatch, he walked around Zuri and approached her from the side which she could see from. He understood that approaching someone from their blind side was a sure fire way to get punched, or at least, he knew that's what he would do that if someone did that to him. As he did so he noticed that they had a knife sheathed, good job he didn't approach from her blind side.
"These lights are a bugger for being so bright in the first place, especially at night." He said with a gruff voice as he slowly approached and grabbed the cat food and handed it to Zuri. "I can stick around if you need to get anything else, or at the very least if you need a shadow to block out these stupid lights." He said, his own blind and scarred eye being very visible in the artificial light, he mentally made a note that the target he was seeking had not yet made an appearance.
--------------------------
Follow Up:
Wraith was walking to the bright building to get some bandages when M. Pourife had bumped into him, the pair of them decided to walk around the store together, for reasons the shifter still wasn't sure of; as long as he got what he needed, he didn't care. His one seeing eye looked at the bright decorations for halloween and couldn't help but grimace, some of the decorations were trying to hard to be scary and came across as more goofy or unrealistic, he supposed that maybe that was the appeal in them for some people.
He cast a glance at M. Pourife as he asked him a question. Wraith shook his head. "Just need some bandages and other medical supplies, that's all." He replied as he took in his surroundings, moving out of the way of people who weren't paying attention to where they were going, a couple of kids saw the shifter and ended up running off screaming from the scarred male. He have a disgruntled sigh. "Brats" He growled lowly under his breath.
It wasn't long before they walked into the technology aisle, Wraith brief scanned the shelf, looking for any new technology that future targets may use, he wasn't phased about buying any himself. It was then he heard M. Pourife ask him if he had any money on him as well as him having an idea on what they could buy. The dark haired male raised an eyebrow. "What are you up too?" He asked, his voice untrusting.
"Try to ignore all the orange and black decorations," M. Pourife told the other party with a wave of his hand while chuckling quite obviously underneath that bushy mustache of his, "Those are just... Halloween decorations. You know, for the holiday and such." Now that one could better listen to him - in spite of the background noise provided by the other shoppers - his chuckling sounded a bit... Off. There was no other word to describe it accurately. Well, nervous, maybe, but... Yea. "Off" was the best descriptor.
Besides, he wasn't even going to buy anything for the holiday. He had other things to be concerned about besides jack-o'-lanterns and candied apples, damn it. He remembered one of his interns saying that he could find vinegar at one of the local markets, but... The scientist was sure this was the wrong market. Artificial light blared down upon him from all sides, and it made him feel lost.
Empty, even.
But he took in a breath, before asking his shopping "partner" somewhat teasingly, "But that asides, what about you? Are you going to try buying some wires, or something electrical? I doubt a normal store would have it, but..." He trailed off, then looked up at the ceiling lights with a mix of awe and apprehension. "... That is the miracle of technology, in a way... And mass production! One can never forget about mass production!" And for the scientist, that showed a bit too clearly in how identical the pumpkin-shaped streamers looked as they went from one aisle to next; the labels and inventories my have changed, but the streamers remained the same.
This wasn't about Halloween though, M. Pourife had to remind himself. This was about getting supplies for his lab. Every day was studying for him, and he supposed that the other party didn't celebrate the holiday either after receiving that little response from his last lecture. "This world is weirder than I thought," he remembered the other saying. Yea, like the feeling wasn't mutual.
He sniffed, before he realized that he was in the technology section. Great. Unlike the homey display in his residence, which showed models which were actually a few months behind the current trends, this part was... Huge. Really huge, actually! And though M. Pourife was a boomer to a point of being confounded by an electronic lock, he definitely wasn't one to decline the opportunity to go apeshit over some devices that went "beep" if you pressed on them.
A sparkle forming in his eyes, M. Pourife stopped staring at the ceiling in favor of gazing at the other and proposing, "Oh, but... By the way, do you have some money? I think I have an idea for what we could buy!", with a grin. Yikes. Rochester, for better or for worse, was definitely doing somersaults in her grave at this point.
M. Pourife is certified as terrible with kids. I'm so sorry, Aiden.
follow-up time.
With a sniff, M. Pourife glanced around to make sure he was indeed carrying his pack of beer along with him, and in a steady manner too. Six bottles exactly. No more, no less. Would one bottle per day work? He didn’t really consider it too much. One after work, and everything would be fine. No worrying about interns or studies, or the politics that always remained out of his reach. Just… Ethanol.
Oh, and the effects of it, of course.
He looked back down, counting six bottles again. With a sigh, M. Pourife glanced around to make sure nobody was looking, before fiddling with the cap of one of them. He wasn’t going to drink one now, nor did he plan to drink it as soon as he got out of the store; he just wanted to loosen it for later. When was later, though? He didn’t exactly know, to be honest with you.
Nor could he really think that clearly, for his stream of thoughts was interrupted by a loud wailing sound. Initially thinking that there was a wild animal loose in the premises, the scientist hovered his hand over his pocket while looking around for anything that might have fur, feathers, or scales, but- No. It was just a child. Oh, and his intern!
His apprehension fading away, M. Pourife straightened his posture and grinned at the teenager before asking, “Hello there, sir! How is everything going for you today?” Well, mostly. His eyes still remained averted from the toddler whose hand he held, if only because she was a mess - both physically and emotionally. M. Pourife sucked with minors. It was why he was so reluctant with making minors as his interns until he got hit with that potential labor shortage, and - well…
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
As the boy spoke, M. Pourife owlishly cocked his head before looking down at the girl, studying her rather than pitying her. In all honesty, he probably either looked funny or terrifying, just gazing at her with little to no emotion - or word, for that matter.
“I see,” he replied before carefully adjusting his grip on his pack of beer and greeting, “Hello, Penelope.” Chuckling regardless of her response, M. Pourife used his free hand to run through his hair and sighed. “And I see, too. Children are such unusual creatures. I never really thought of having one. It sounds like a huge obligation, you know. Taking care of children…” If you say so. He paused as he listened to the teenager further explain why he was carrying around Penelope, frowning slightly, but… Hey. Maybe the teenager had a point. It wasn’t like the childless scientist - only familiar with the concept due to his expansive not-family of interns - really knew much about the subject.
Still, the middle-aged man laughed when the boy asked for him to hold some things. Oh, thank goodness he wasn’t asked to deal with the toddler! But at the same time… M. Pourife adjusted the pack of beer again.
“I will try,” stated the scientist with a slow nod, though… Hey there. Was his voice… Wavering? Uh oh. Better not have any loopholes then.
With a yawn sounding from the teenager, Aiden trudged along the path and blinked slowly. He maintained his gaze on the signs that hung on the ceiling. He briefly glanced at his watch, but he really didn't care about the time right now. All he knew was that he was up at some ungodly hour with an wailing, ill toddler in tow. He didn't really have any choice as to where to leave the child; his parents were still at vacation, and he didn't have the heart to just wake anyone up so that he could just drop the child off. He managed to calm the child down with difficulty, but that didn't mean that she was not on the verge of tears.
As he maintained his gaze in the variety of contents in the aisles he passed, he heard a familiar voice sound behind him. Upon whipping his head around, he allowed his eyelashes to flutter as he chuffed,
"O-Oh, hey, Mr. P-p-pourife!" He blinked slowly as he shifted his feet so that his body could face him. He never expected having to engage in a conversation this early. The boy just wanted to get his daughter her medicine and treat, then leave. After briefly feeling a chin press onto his shoulder, Aiden pointed at the young girl he held in his other arm.
"O-Oh, uhm, this is-is-is P-p-penelope. She's..." He paused to think of what to say. Should he even share this information with his boss? It seemed like a ton of people already knew that the toddler belonged to him. Additionally, he was often told that he was a terrible liar. Aiden, however, decided to take the risk, continuing with a white lie,
"She's the girl I b-babysit! Her p-parents are on vacation..." Aiden paused to examine the elder party's expression. He appeared unconvinced—at least, Aiden thought he did—but he abruptly shifted the subject by continuing,
"Hey, look, I-I'm sorry if-if-if I-I'm interrupting anything, b-but can you help me hold a-a few things? I-I'm kind of-of-of, uhm, occupied right now."
After finding the teenager with her dog, Dolores was... A bit antsy? She worried that he'd blab about her terrier to the wrong crowd, and then the debacle in her hometown would unfold all over again. That, of course, was more trouble than it was worth, for obvious reasons. So, for her sake, she bit down her apprehension and just... Gave him the benefit of the doubt. Hopefully.
Not that it didn't matter, since she didn't take Poffin along with her for this shopping trip. She did, however, carry a list in her hand while she hummed the tune to an old lullaby under her breath, one that reminded her of the sweet scents and soft notes of home. Or was it where she worked for several decades? “Home” was always such an unusual, nebulous word for her…
Dolores was, however, certain that the definition didn’t extend to the market she was currently in, with those multicolored canopies and fancy wares. It was just too… Foreign for her. She rarely came to these types of markets, for they only convened when the snow wasn’t particularly heavy and the winds weren’t so frigid, but she supposed she might as well at least attempt to treasure the visit, since someone was following her.
Who knows? Maybe I’ll find something valuable out of this?
A small smile returned to the elder’s face before she asked, “So… Let me make sure. All you want is a bag of cookies? And… Dog treats?” Dolores raised her brow at the latter item, though she didn’t think too hard about it. Maybe he had a dog back at home. Or maybe he just wanted to feed Poffin, which she always appreciated. “That’s fine,” reassured Dolores with a small chuckle, “I just want to ensure that everything you need is on that list.”
“And of course, I’ll be paying,” reminded the elder to nobody in particular, as she scanned the stalls for any sight of the cookies the teenager was so attached to. Chocolate chip, was it? Dolores only remembered in hindsight that she could make them herself, but alas, buying the premade versions was less expensive than trying to buy every ingredient, then making the cookies from scratch. “I’ll be paying for everything,” Dolores reiterated before stopping by near one of the confectionery stands- And holy shit, a plethora of candies, cookies, and pastries were available. Not just chocolate chip cookies!
Her eyes brightening up, she waved a hand at the boy before pointing at some of the goods, exclaiming excitedly, “Oh, sir! Look at this! I can pay for all of that, of course, but… There’s a lot here! Come over if you want to see them all!” She was, in a way, almost too excited for her own good, but… Hey. It was open-air. Gotta treasure it before the winds picked up again.
vape.... tysm for the good food.... time for a follow-up, featuring more awkward Dolores interactions....
Dolores, in contrast to the teenager she was shopping with, wasn’t at all full of rage - and that was the truth. In fact, the poor elder probably would’ve imploded if she held even an ounce of anger or resentment in her, and that was… Probably for the best.
She knew it was cold. She knew that it was the slightest bit breezy, with the way her hair rustled a bit when the wind coursed through it. But it was one of the days for the open-air markets! The elder simply had to attend, even if she was wary about bringing another guest along. Who knew how the girl was going to react? She was already so tense in Dolores’s own home; imagine how she might react in a crowd full of strangers. Potentially dangerous strangers…
It was difficult for her to empathize with such a cynical perspective, and yet Dolores considered it while pacing through the frost-imbued dirt and remarked casually, “I hope the food here is still good. Sometimes people place too much trust in the mountain air as a preservative, especially during hot spells. But… Usually its dryness and frigidity are for the best, hm?” She laughed before allowing her steps to slow, just so the girl could catch up.
This time, there was no list Dolores brought along for the trip. She just wanted to survey some of the wares, then- Maybe, in hindsight, the elder should’ve brought a list, just in case she needed to buy some wares before they were snapped up by other shoppers…
“I don’t think it’ll matter too much,” Dolores reassured the teenager with a small titter, before leaning in and adding in a slight whisper, “Besides, a lot of the merchants around here… They’re rather informal dealers. For them, money is money. I don’t think they’ll care too much about the names. If it looks like gold, they’ll think it’s gold.” In the latter comment, her voice trembled while she glanced around at the other shoppers, then gave the girl a sheepish smile as the latter approached her and mused further - about a past life, how she got everything she wanted without the need for money at one point.
The older woman’s smile faded, before remarking calmly, “I see. At least there’s a lot around here to be sold, hm? It’s not manufactured, at least not most of them. A lot of these dealers are also craftspeople trying to make a quick buck, but the commercial markets haven’t always been so friendly to them…” She shrugged, then looked back forward. “Food included, of course. I’m sure your uncle has his reasons for being conservative with his resources.”
That’s one way to put it, hon.
“Oh, and I’m not getting only beef,” answered Dolores with a vague motion of her hand, “I’m planning to get some vegetables too. Mostly root ones, since they’re best fit for the rocky soils up here… Why, do you need anything?” She cocked her head, then started to titter when the girl asked for more money.
Without questioning it whatsoever, the elder stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out a few coins for the girl to take, humming, “Here, you can have these. You’re going to buy something with that, are you? Not that it matters, but… It’s yours nonetheless, dear.” Oh, honey...
I'm fourteen and full of rage because my dad won't let me get lost in an abandoned mine shaft and die.
Not too thrilled about the fact that she was basically being babysat again by the lady who definitely poisoned strawberries, Maribelle dragged herself after the elderly woman, pulling at her own furred coat as a cold, soft breeze ran through the open market. She wanted to complain, but both the low temperature and the fact her not-father would probably kill her if he got a bad report kept her from making much of a peep. Still, in typical teenage fashion, she kept her gloomy expression, her frustrated scowl. She would have rather stayed inside where it was warm.
At least this was... somewhat entertaining? She was never sure what to make of crowds, even ones as small as this, but passing by the stalls and catching glimpses of their goods and wares were all the amusement she needed. Or, it was a funny kind of torture. Food was getting hard to come by in Haratel, and her uncle couldn't travel north as easily when the weather grew harsh. Reminders that food was scarce also led to a slight obsession with it. She hated carrots and cat meat, but she would begrudgingly take either of those these days.
"My uncle sent money with me." she droned out, "But I doubt I can use it here. It's not the same money, I don't think." She paused to scratch at the side of her nose. She didn't actually know a whole lot about money, so... She wasn't one-hundred-percent there.
Maribelle shuffled a bit closer to Dolores, keeping her head low as she stared at the food stands. "I got whatever I wanted back home, though, no matter the money." the girl carried on, "All the food." All the dresses, all the toys... She was a brat. "Now, my uncle doesn't give me anything."
Don't be an asshole behind his back?
After a pause, carefully scanning the stalls for anything of interest, she asked, "What are you supposed to be getting, anyway? You're not just getting beef again, are you?" Please... "Can you give me more money?"
maribelle is a greedy bitch and i cannot stand it
"It has a hood, if that's anything." Maribelle told Nobutaka, following the man through the clothing store. She liked getting new clothes, but unfortunately, her idea of good clothing seemed to differ from Nobutaka's. Admittedly, she didn't like what she often donned, cloak aside. She liked her cloak, but he was right to think it smelled. Because it did. It also wasn't very handsome, not anymore, with all its holes and poorly-stitched holes.
Sitting glumly on the bench, she eyed the jacket, curling her lip. As she studied it for a whole five seconds, she flipped her hood around, before muttering, "Looks kinda ugly." The stripes were fine, but the tiger decal on the back wasn't her cup of tea. That could go for any decal on any article of clothing, though. But, was what he brought out much better? It looked... plain. And too much like her button-up. She looked down for a moment, now fiddling with the button at her collar. It was becoming loose. She needed to replace it. And, besides... "I have enough black."
That's not a very gothic thing to say.
Then again, it wasn't like she was going to accept any other colors. By the fifth hoodie he presented to her, she had enough. She was bored, and also starving, and desperately wanted nothing but Cinnabon rolls because the boxes looked adorable to her. That or Denny's. I got hit by low blood pressure at a Denny's once because I was stupid and didn't eat before my doctor's visit when I was fifteen and it wasn't fun. I need something horrible to happen to Maribelle at a Denny's now.
Walking sluggishly out of the store behind Nobutaka, Maribelle stared down at her Center of the Roll™ and Strawberries & Cream Chillatta™, rather than ahead. She was just able to keep track of the mobster's jacket enough to be able to follow him near perfectly. But then he found something else, and if she wasn't so protective of her food, she would have told him to just hurry the fuck up and get inside the bowling alley.
She stared up at the jacket he directed her attention to, and offered a shrug in response. "Go ask them." she said, "I'm just going to... find one of those stupid... arcade things. They have them here, right? Do you have any change?"
Stop asking people for money.
Zinnia, admittedly, felt uncomfortable around the mob boss, and her discomfort intensified at the nickname that was now imprinted on her. She didn't want to sound rude or be mean, so she just went along with it. She's Cyclops now, and right now Cyclops was pushing a cart behind the much taller man. She followed him as if she were a duckling; an intimidated, tiny duckling who's view had become slightly obstructed by the blonde locks that constantly made their way over her eyes. The teenager stopped trying to push her hair away, only doing so one time after she scratched at the bridge of her nose.
Zinnia allowed her eyes to constantly travel from Taka's hands to the contents inside of the cart she pushed along. Wait, why was she doing this again? It wasn't like Zinnia needed to accompany the elder party just so that he could pick up some food. At least Zinnia got to get out of the house and do some work.