[OPEN] Don't switch the blade on the guy in shades, oh no....

[tolduimapsycho]

Who| Mister Scratch and YOU.
What| There's a new guy in town. He's going SHOPPING.
Where| Every clothing and accessory shop in the Capitol.
When| After the Arena.
Warnings| Language, crude talk, and a creepy serial killer.


It's always a pretty sudden thing, isn't it? When out of nowhere, there's a new body in the district, a new face trying to adjust to the cruel reality that they have been thrown into. Some people hide. Cry. Try to pretend that none of it is going to happen to them, not really.

...And then there's this asshole.

A tall, dark figure is roaming through town, through every single shop - trying on and buying every pair of sunglasses that he likes (and some he doesn't), leaving a bunch of very confused shop clerks in his wake. A pair of glasses for every occasion, every outfit - he just rolls into store after store, chipper as can be, pulling glasses on and then unceremoniously throwing them into piles.

Just as he's trying on a pair, he spots you - and he approaches, a bounce in his step, a grin on his face. He doesn't care what you look like, who you are, what you were trying to do - no matter what, he addresses you, pointing at himself.

"What do you think of these? Good? Bad? I mean, none of these can look BAD on me, but eh, some are more shit than others."

He's not gonna leave you alone until you answer him.

Comments

[hit_girl_mindy]

Oh, there's always a reason to look for clothes, isn't there? Mindy herself was here, looking to add some color to her wardrobe. This was being done at Oceana's insistence (exact words were "do it or I'll fucking cut you") so Mindy was here, pretending to be grumbling about this. In reality, she could use the distraction: Riley was gone, and was Chibi Usa (thankfully), Susannah and Don, a definite hit to her psyche. So right now, happy times where she could get them was appreciated.

Apparently, distractions also worked.

"Try ones with a blue tint, they always look cool," Mindy said, being impartial. Hey, she'd read comics and seen enough "cool guys" in movies to form an opinion there.

[tolduimapsycho]

"Think I've already got some of those - but I think they've got more here, hang on-"

As suddenly as he had approached, Scratch bolts back over to the display of glasses, throwing the ones he had had on into his 'maybe' pile on the floor and pulling on a pair with a blue tint. With those on, he runs back to Mindy, skidding a little on his dress shoes with his sudden stop.

"How's that? Better?"

He looks so very hopeful.

[hit_girl_mindy]

"Yeah, that definitely looks better."

Mindy had nothing to do, and losing herself in something like this she was fine with. Hell, why wasn't she looking for a proper pair of shades herself? It would at least past the time.

"Not as much sun these days. You going for style over function?

[tolduimapsycho]

Turning away from her for the moment, he looks in a mirror, inspecting his own reflection. Yeah, these aren't bad. They go in the 'keep' pile for sure.

"I'm not really a fan of light in general. You know how it is - you have a little too much to drink, and the next day, everything is like knives in your eyeballs." A chuckle. He turns back around, shrugging a little bit.

"Might not be a lot of sun to you, but I've been a night person for way too long to be used to this shit."

[hit_girl_mindy]

"Don't I know it," Mindy said, who was far more used to doing her real jobs at night, not in daylight. "Night life here is usually reserved for drinking, stupid ass parties or going to the arcade for me. The day is for training and generally keeping myself busy."

Oh, and avoiding the looks of assholes who thought she was a traitor. Can't forget that.

"It's enough to piss away your schedule, really."

[tolduimapsycho]

Heh. Okay. He could get to like this kid.

"Yeah, it's a tough life. So much booze, not enough time."

Pulling off his glasses, he sticks out a hand, smiling a jovial (if weird) smile. "Name's Alan. New around here. Killing time until the killing starts. Who are you?"

[gardienne]

Eponine had been wandering. She wandered constantly these days, not wanting to stay in the Tribute Tower when so many people were hostile to her. And quite without meaning to at first, and then because her curiosity was piqued, she ended up following Mister Scratch from one shop to the next. And still, he bought sunglasses.

In the end, Eponine cleared her throat and asked, "Sir? Are you related to Dave as well?"

[tolduimapsycho]

"That's not even close to an answer to my question, but - y'know - whatever."

Scratch lowers his sunglasses, leering over them at the girl. Aha. It takes him a moment, but he recognizes her; she's been following him. Curious, probably. Gullible, maybe. Maybe he can be the newest in a sequence of bad decisions on her part.

Not a bad ass, either.

"Dave? Who the fuck is Dave?"

[gardienne]

"Mr Dave." She licks her lips. "I don't know his other name. I forget, Sir. He is tall and blonde and so skinny. and still just a stupid boy. But he likes these glasses as well."

But she turns away a little, and picks up a really plain pair, with dark, thick frames.

"I like these for a man. They hide the eyes and I can't see them looking at me. Sir."

[tolduimapsycho]

"Sir, Sir, Sir - how about you call me Alan instead?"

When she holds out the glasses, he just continues grinning at her...and then removes his glasses, leaning up close.

"Go ahead. Put 'em on me."

[gardienne]

"Put them on" Eponine looks shocked. But she recovers herself, and opens the glasses, smiles and slides them carefully onto Alan's eyes.

"You do this, Sir? Alan. Ask strangers to perhaps poke you in the eye? What if I had slipped? Then you might have been blind."

[tolduimapsycho]

"Well, sure. You look like the kind of girl I can trust."

His grin broadens as he straightens up, adjusting the sunglasses to his liking. His tone of voice remained light and flippant...his words, on the other hand:

"Besides, if you'd slipped...you know what they say. 'An eye for an eye.'"

[baaarbie]

Barbie didn't know why he was in the shop, all of his assets were still frozen, but he just had to get out of the tower for a little while. He had to admit, this elegant silver necklace he was looking at would look good on Jessica and a random present always seemed to cheer her up in the past. Maybe once he had money again.

However, he didn't have much time to think about it when a random guy came up to him rambling on about sunglasses. It took a second, but Barbie processed him as one of the new tributes, but not his.

"Um...looks alright. I think your stylist wouldn't approve, it doesn't have enough gems on it."

[tolduimapsycho]

"Well, what's my stylist going to do? Dress me to death?"

He laughs at his own joke for a moment before regarding the other man properly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"They can suck it for all I care. Everything in this place is too shiny for a guy with a hangover."

[letthemburn]

Iskierka doesn't know much of anything about how human fashion is meant to work. Or what's supposed to look good on a person. Still, she supposes it doesn't look entirely awful. Just entirely weird, and if it serves any purpose it's not any that she can immediately see.

"Am I meant to think anything of them?"

Sunglasses aren't really something that she's had any experience with, and even normal glasses aren't terribly common in the Aerial Corps. Not to mention, even if she had had an interest in such things there's no denying that sunglasses aren't usually made for dragons. After a moment or three, however, she speaks up again.

"I suppose they are hardly awful, at least."

[tolduimapsycho]

Scratch stares at the stranger for an uncomfortably long time, expression difficult to read. Was he offended and getting angry? Did he care about her opinion at all?

After a moment, he laughs a little, taking the glasses off and throwing them over his shoulder, narrowly missing another shopper.

"Yeah, you're right, they're not great. Not my favorites by a long shot. Which ones would YOU go with?" He gestures to the rack, shrugging a little bit.

[letthemburn]

Truth be told, it doesn't much matter to her if he cares about her opinion. She's not the sort to care what people think, much. But she considers the question for a moment or three all the same. Just because she can't wear sunglasses doesn't mean that she can't still have opinions about them.

"Oh, I should go with those ones," she answers, pointing a claw at the pair in question.

As is perhaps unsurprising, she's pointing at the most blinged-out pair on the rack and she honestly means that she'd like them the best. There is, after all, some truth in the old stories about dragons having an interest in all things pretty and shiny

[tolduimapsycho]

Most people would probably be struck by the ridiculousness of this situation. Here he is, standing around, asking a dragon about her opinion on which sunglasses he should buy. But hell, he himself was a writhing mass of darkness and lies made flesh in the form of a melodramatic writer. So.

"Those?"

Picking them up without missing a beat, he tries them on, looking to her.

"Good?"

[letthemburn]

She nods, briefly, at the first question. Admittedly it doesn't look much like a nod - she's not anywhere near human enough for the question to look anything but exceedingly strange - but it's still close enough to be recognizable. If only just.

"They are ever so much better, yes. Much more so than the last pair."

Maybe, she thinks, she'll have to get Granby a pair, should he ever manage to show up in Panem. But it's a fleeting thought and that she's right back to the matter at hand, even as odd as

[tolduimapsycho]

"Well. Okay then."

With that, he throws them into the pile he's going to buy, continuing to browse. He doesn't look up when he talks again, throwing out words as nonchalant as can be.

"So, what's a dinosaur like you doing in a place like this?"

[carnagecarnival]

He didn't even motherfucking mean to go in this store, honestly. He was looking for something else, meaning to go somewhere else. But he went in. And then he saw the pile of sunglasses building up. He'd thought to ignore it, he really did.

Still, sure enough, compulsion pulled him forward. It was fine if he just did this, right? Wasn't a big motherfucking deal or anything.

He starts carefully putting each tossed pair of sunglasses away, neat and tidy, until he's put a fair dent in the pile.

He raises his head upon the question. Me mutters, "I ain't a motherfucking stylist, brother, you're looking at for the wrong motherfucker what to ask."

[tolduimapsycho]

The answer didn't really bother Scratch one way or the other - it's not like he actually cared about this freak's opinion. On the other hand? He was picking the piles up.

In a flash, the dark presence was leaning over the stranger, ripping off the sunglasses he was wearing to glare at him.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa - what do you think you're doing, asshole? I'm shopping here."

[carnagecarnival]

There's a special sort of impudence has to get all to behaving to try and lean over him. The trying of all to use height to intimidate is just the sort of thing what has him narrowing his eyes.

Still, he doesn't straighten himself up just yet.

"SORRY," He says without sounding like he means it. "Were you buying all of these?"

[tolduimapsycho]

Mister Scratch is great at special forms of impudence. It's kind of his thing.

"Maybe I am," he barks, tilting his head to one side and putting his hands on his hips in mock-outrage. "I'm still deciding. You're fucking with my organization."

[carnagecarnival]

He ought to let it go. Move along, keep his head down. But then he imagines other avoxes being about this noise in his place and he keeps firm, fists curling and then loosening again.

"ORGANIZATIONALS? That so. AIGHT. So long as they is going back after, yeah?"