lifeaftr | CLOTHING ADVENTURES

CLOTHING ADVENTURES

Who: Anyone! Everyone!
What: Clothes were requested. Clothes are now granted.
When: morning of the 22nd initially
Where: meet me at the room that's literally filled to the brim with clothing in 15 minutes
Warnings: It's just clothes, what could possibly go wrong!
Notes: Everyone gets free clothes whether they participated in the actual request or not. CLOTHES FOR THE ENTIRE ISLAND.

There's a room in the Storyteller's temple; it was once empty, and now it's...not. It is, in fact, full of clothing of all sorts, to the point that it might be slightly difficult to find exactly what you're looking for.

Oh well. It's there now, no takebacks.

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[Her own armor might have been shed, at least for the moment, when she learned from Wash about this. Not exactly the brightest thing to wear when seeking clothing, unless she was looking to wear clothing over her suit, which is not the case.

At the moment she's still in her black body suit as she comes to stop beside him, noting the clothing that he's wearing. It's... not a bad look, although her gaze shifts to the t-shirt as her arms cross lightly under her chest. It fits, at least size wise. An eyebrow might be arched as she moves her gaze from the growing and varied pile of clothing that he seems to be collecting and back to him.]

Interesting choices, Wash.

[That slightly wry hint to her voice, as some... Well, they look more than a little snug for him.]

Well, I'm not wearing anything that has the word chupacabra on it.

[Hey. Hey. It is not his fault that the best he can do is this. It is, at least, partially the Storyteller's fault, and that's the story he is decidedly going with.]

Those don't even originate from Washington. It doesn't make for a good punchline and I put in a word for something sensible when we were pooling stories. This is what we got.

Of course you're not, Copper.

[Because, sorry, she can't help that retort as her lips quiver ever so. Yet they are drawn back to the pile he has managed to gather up. To say the styles have been varied would be an understatement. There's clothing that she's never even seen before, and that's saying something, like the fact that there is a good reason that she hasn't seen it.]

I guess it could be worse. Imagine costumes.

[Halloween all day every day...]

You say that like a good twenty percent of this doesn't count.

[Yeah, what the fuck is this? 'Cause he's been staring at it for the past twenty seconds and can't figure out what the hell it's supposed to be.]

What do you think? Brings out my eyes, right?

It makes me want bacon.

[Maybe if he turns it inside out? That should take care of the... pig thing on the front. If it's meant to mean something, Carolina has no idea what. Someone's inside joke.]

Man. How long's it been since any of us had bacon.

[It's...rueful. Not necessarily wistful, not really longing, just - he misses it. Ordinary food. He folds up the shirt and tosses it onto the heap without much of a second thought. No thanks, Peppa Pig. He's good.]

I don't even remember anymore.

I don't even want to admit how many years.

[Ordinary. Has she ever been ordinary? It's not like she remembers fancy breakfasts. No, a bowl of cereal, a splash of milk. Maybe fruit. Neither parent really had the time or the desire to focus on something as mundane as that.

Not until she left home. Dining out at greasy joints? That may have happened now and then, savouring a juicy burger with slabs of bacon on top... And that line of thinking is going to have her stomach growing.

Reaching down to tug at a seemingly innocent t-shirt, and yup, nope.]

Do you think people ever actually paid money for these.

Maybe on some of the outer colonies.

[Some of the colonies had shitty enough weather conditions that they'd have civvies wearing full armor like it was standard. That, or it was colonies like Chorus, where war burned surrounding worlds half-black but managed to breeze a lonely planet in the ass-end of nowhere. Of course, war managed to find its way to them anyway.]

[Wash tilts his head to study the offending t-shirt, as if by adjusting the angle he might make the design less absurd.]

I dunno. It's almost charming.

[That earns a snort before she tosses it in his direction.

Where's something basic? Something versatile? Every day and yet moveable in case she needs to fight. Bright colours might as well paint a flashing symbol on her that here she is when she's not in her armor. Then again, her armor isn't exactly the most inconspicuous thing out there either...

But she's shifting again, tugging, and well and double well.]

I might need to switch teams.

[You know what? Fuck it. He is taking this goddamn shirt. It's priceless.]

[Not nearly as priceless as what Carolina says next, which grants Wash the perfect to opportunity to stare at her and - incredibly, impossibly, grin wider than he's maybe ever allowed himself since his arrival.]

You're saying you're a Blue?

[Red and pink... with red hair... Probably not going to happen anyway. Yes, she is partial to lighter blues- aqua if people would like to get technical, or browns and blacks. Typically easier to blend in to most places.

Yet she blinks, pauses, notes that grin on his face that's rivaling a Cheshire Cat, which only makes her eyes narrow in return, before retorting.]

I'm not say that I'm not one?

It's a good thing Sarge isn't here. I'm not sure if he'd be able to handle that another Freelancer badass was really... [His tone drops dramatically, a passable imitation of Sarge's gruff baritone:]

A darn dirty Blue at heart.

Don't make me beat you with that shirt...

[Although there is, despite the situation that they have found themselves in on this strange screwed up set of islands, a warm hint of amusement to her tone.]

Beat me with a shirt. You know, that'd be a first for me.

[It's not a grappling hook or a locker, but Freelancers are nothing if not adept at improvising. He no longer so sourly hates it when they do that; with the Reds and Blues, you learn to adapt.]

That saying you want to cross it off your bucket list?

[Not a true question as she turns, a smile on her face, still trying to find something agreeable for her.]

I'm just saying that it's on someone's.

[If anyone could pull it off, he'd put his money on her.]

It's gonna be weird. Getting used to the...armor. [The lack thereof, he means.]

[She might be able to think of who that someone could be.]

Like you're a little naked.

[Getting what he means. Maybe it is why she's not just taking anything and being pickier... The armor's been there long enough that it is what is normal to her, the weight of it, feeling encompassed.]

It's just weird not having that weight. I guess most people here get by without it, so...in theory, we could too.

[And equipment maintenance would be a hell of a lot easier if it wasn't in constant use. Might come in handy in combat situations, but the frequency and occurrence of those can be difficult to predict. Moving around in full armor usually just...safer. More efficient.]

[It is the fact that the armor does a lot for them... Not that she can't fight or protect herself without it, but she is in a better position to do so when she is. It's... lacking that familiar presence, although she knows that she had pushed Epsilon too hard sometimes, causing her enhancements to fail.]

In theory that works...

[And holding up this doozy of a sweater. Because, no. Just no. There is no way that she is not wearing her armor and wearing something like this instead.]

... in reality...

[All you need to pull off a thing like that is, allegedly, the confidence to wear it shamelessly. Wash, for his part, doesn't really want to find out if that theory holds any water. He's good, thanks.]

Oh, what. Not a fan of unicorns?

You could ask Muffet to make it a little less, uh...eccentric. [Wait, fuck, does she know...?] You...know who Muffet is, right? Giant spider?

[Yeah, they've got one of those here. No big. She's nice.]

Do I look like I'm a fan of unicorns?

[Choose your words wisely, Wash!

But, the expression on her face likely says enough. She has no idea who Muffet is. Someone he's met here, would be her guess, although she can't say that she is expecting that answer.]

Uh. No. Haven't run across any giant spider.

She's okay, as far as giant spiders go. Kind of...purple? Wears bows?

[You sound fucking crazy, Washington. You always sound fucking crazy, and don't ever let yourself forget that that's all that you are, that you've still lost your mind in some ways and the whole point of losing your mind is that it's almost impossible to get back.]

[The frown puckering his forehead is one of the reasons he prefers wearing his helmet.]

I mean we...had a flying elevator here, so I guess anything is possible.

[He says it, like it's normal...

Although for him, maybe by now it is. Yet she is having a hard time trying to picture a purple spider wearing bows. On her legs? Does she have hair? All she can think of is Caboose telling a story, because a giant purple spider with bows seems right up his alley.

Heck, he'd be best friends with it.]

And sorry, where does this giant spider live?

[To be fair, Muffet isn't exactly hard to befriend. Allegedly, she's downright impossible not to befriend.]

One of the islets. Third one, I think. She's usually at that...restaurant place, though.

[He refuses to call it "Denny" on the principle of it.]

Denny?

[Because yes, Carolina has been told about it.]

How giant of a spider are we talking about?

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