CLOTHING ADVENTURES

[lightlessfuture]

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.

Comments

[catpiper]

[The felon arises like a terrible phoenix from the ashes of her shirt fort, that has collapsed with all her rummaging, armed with another weapon aimed directly at him.

Guess what the game of the day is? He got mad, but not mad when he was hit. That's an 'I'm losing' anger in her mind. Nothing like the You're not my Ren outrage that would prompt her to stop in a second. Nope, it's safe to go for the gold.

Think fast, Guzma. She's packing this pizza nightmare into the tightest ball she can and tossing it towards the top of his head.]

[yallstupid]

[Oh hell no. The moment Guzma sees that monstrosity, his expression seems to twist with a mix of horror and disgust. Come at him with that garment and he will chuck it into the fires of Mordor. Purge the world of this blight, he will be the hero you all deserve. He wasn't aware of Ren's terrible villainy before, but now Guzma is ready.

When she flings her horrible rag at him, He catches it with one hand, lowering the garment slowly and looking her dead in the eyes.]

Absolutely not. [AND BACK INTO THE PIT IT GOES.]

[catpiper]

[This is war. He managed to catch the outfit and collect some points for himself. She doesn't care if he wears the clothes when there's a bigger victory at stake. But fair's fair and she points directly at him, then splays all ten fingers in the air. He got ten points from that little catch. Good job.

They're tied? Probably.

She lowers herself back to her own personal pit, grabs this incredible wonder and takes a couple steps forward, aims for his feet and then-

Boom, think fast.]

[yallstupid]

[Ren holds up her hands and Guzma tilts his head to one side, like a confused dog being given a command it doesn't understand. Ten? Ten what? Ten fingers?? Ten years dungeon for that abomination to fashion? Ten--wait.

The next garment is held up - equally terrible, if not more so - and rolled into a ball. Oho, so that's what this is about. A battle! Guzma's already dived, rolling slightly into another pile of clothes, and nabs something, anything, from nearby.]

Oh, you're in for it now!! [Deploying a pair of extraordinarily tasteless boxers, Guzma draws them back over his thumb and releases, right at Ren's face. You wanted war, you've got war.]

[catpiper]

[She craves war. Battle is her new middle name and victory is the only thing she can see.

Victory and boxers, apparently. Because she doesn't expect him to move that direction or retaliate with that kind of speed. Another three points. Something fierce and powerful burns inside her at the realization he's going to be a worthy opponent.

And she will win.

The stupid shorts are thrown to the ground and hurries into the big kahuna pile, ducking until she's completely covered by fabric.

Where is she??? That's the mystery. There's a slight movement to the pile as she slowly crawls under the surface, looking for a new place to breech and continue her attack. Get ready, punk!!]

[yallstupid]

[She will lose, or Guzma will go down swinging. That is how it's always been, in every competition, in every battle, in all walks of life. If he's not giving it his very best to come out on top, then he's just not trying hard enough - that's what's been pounded into his head since he was littler than Ren, after all.

Ren dives into the abyss of clothes, and Guzma knows she has the advantage of her small size in this mess, but he's a battle-hardened tactician. While she's guarding her defensive position, he begins to gather ammunition. Small, but powerful, Guzma shoves as many socks and, erm...unmentionables into his pockets and arms. Socks can be balled up way easier than shirts or pants, making them much easier to throw. And while Ren's got no visual on him, he dives behind a pile and stealths his way around her so called "master control", keeping a watchful eye on the shifting fabric. Just got to find a blind spot to attack when she emerges like a gopher.

You defeat is imminent, little sister. Big brothers always win when it comes to battles of war.]

[catpiper]

[It's too quiet.

Silence is a measure of safety and while it sometimes means the ghosts have disappeared or the dogs have lost her scent, it can be dangerous. Far more dangerous. Guzma didn't leave. He's not a distracted ghost that'll disappear. He's closer to a hungry dog, desperate for victory instead of food and willing to wait for his chance. He didn't give up when they played tag-he ran and ran for a long time.

He's here. And she stays completely silent and immobile under the mass of fabric, ears prickling like she's going to be able to hear him. Every sound is muffled. She effectively hid herself, but is now forced into a blind spot of her own making. Bad.

But she ain't a damn fool. Poking her head out will reveal her position. That would've gotten her killed in her previous world. She needs to come up with a distraction-a bag to throw or-

She stretches her leg out as far as she can and kicks as high as she's able, sending a slew of shirts and pants into the air, and crawls in the opposite direction of that madness, trying to use the diversion to get away from his watchful eye, wherever it is. Hope a cat shirt hit you, butthead. She's not going down without a fight.]