thecapitol | [OPEN]

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Who: The Signless and YOU!
What: Signless braves the wild and scary world of shopping.
Where: The Capitol shopping district.
When: Now-ish, during the day.
Warnings: None that I can think of.

The Signless hasn't really done much shopping in the Capitol -- none at all, as it happens, except for when he accompanied Karkat on his last trip but paid for nothing that was bought. He doesn't really trust the credit cards; he doesn't like the idea of being in debt to these people. But this is a special outing. Karkat got him a tribute token doubling as a sign of their moiraillegience, and he can't very well not return the gesture.

So far it's been a wild ride, out alone with all the Capitol people. Many are still wearing horns, some of them disturbingly like his own little nubs, and three of them already have stopped him and asked him to write his name in Alternian script on their arms or faces in glittering red pen. It's strange, as confusing as it is flattering for someone who lived most of their life only interacting with the same three people and expecting only skepticism or violence from strangers. So far the worst thing that's happened to him out here has been a human with blue and red glasses and two sets of horns in honey gold giving him a rather dirty look as they walked past each other. The thought that people he doesn't even know have been watching his relationship with the Helmsman crash and burn and might be angry at him about it is a deeply disconcerting one.

Still, he can't just ignore everyone around him. He likes Peeta and Cinna, and despite all his efforts Effie is growing on him, and he knows it'll help them tremendously if he presents a gracious and open public persona.

Also, he needs a second opinion. He's found a ring he likes, but he's never had jewelry and doesn't have much of an eye for whether it looks good or not. Whoever your character is, they are being recruited for the cause!

"What do you think of this? Too garish?"

(Of course, if your character isn't one he'd ask the opinion of, they can feel free to butt in and give it anyway.)

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Venus has gotten accustomed to getting things for free, as samples or as gifts or as something to promote at her next social setting. She isn't used to actually having to spend money on clothes. Then again, she isn't used to having an actual body to put clothes on.

Laden with bags of shoes and dresses and leggings, Venus has decided that to finish her outfits off she needs to see what the Capitol's got going on for accessories. Like any good celebrity, she's already fitted herself with some oversize sunglasses, but she needs earrings to go with it.

She's chewing gum, because now that she has tastebuds why waste them? and leaning over a glass case full of insanely expensive bracelets, tapping the corner of her credit card in thought. She wonders how strict they are about payments here, and it worries her slightly, tugs at a little knot in her eyebrows. She remembers a day before she was famous and rich, when she really had to watch her spending to make sure she wasn't getting screwed sideways with overdraft fees or getting evicted.

Now she has to build herself up as a star again. They've done the first step by getting her on TV, but she has to stand out in a crowd of nearly a hundred people. That makes her face tighten a little more, and she breathes out deep and taps the card faster as she tries to force the thought away. She's barely looking at the bracelets anymore when some pasty guy with horns asks her opinion on a ring in a box.

"That? That looks like you won it from a claw machine."

Luxury has always been a dream of Neffa's. He's never been poor, but magic, for him, has always been a means to an end - an end involving a manor in the Palace District, and spirits housed in gemstones instead of cedar, and a pleasure boat named after a woman, with blue-and-gold sails.

For a fledgling magician still trapped under the Guild's wing, it had been a maybe in thirty years kind of goal; here, he defiantly makes the absolute most of his celebrity, because the Capitol is in debt to him for his life, his livelihood, and his magic, and so far as he's concerned, there's nothing more they can reasonably ask him to pay. So he uses his credit card with abandon, mostly to buy his own clothes - ridiculous they might be, but they're better than what his Stylist inflicts on him without his consent.

He's examining gold pendants at one of the jewelry counters and wondering idly if a commission for one in the shape of the Lady's sigil would put him on any kind of watch list when the Signless approaches. Neffa sees him from the corner of his eye, controls the sudden nervous urge to take a pointed step away. He's learned his lesson about engaging trolls. Ignore him and he'll go-- Damn.

He considers, for a brief, desperate second, ignoring the question-- but no, the troll addressed him, he can't very well pretend to be deaf. He puts on alertness and interest, and it barely wavers at all as he leans closer (not too close) to look at the ring.

"Well-- that depends on the context, I think," he says, with the gravity of professionalism. "As the brightest piece of a quieter ensemble, I think it would do very well - certainly, it'll flatter you." Red's never flattered him, personally, but he can imagine it working better against the Signless's grayish skin.

Jay is trying on earrings when he hears Signless's voice. He puts his plain gold rings back into his ears and approaches the troll from behind, craning his neck to see what he's talking about. The earrings were all boring anyway -- he could find none that suited his style and looked like they might be actually appropriate as religious wear. Not that he remembered the rules for piercings (or if, indeed, there were any, beyond the places one was supposed to have pierced).

He comes closer and plucks the ring out of Signless's hand and holds it up to the light. He turns it around in his long, spidery fingers and frowns at it.

"It's quite nice, darling," he finally says. "But, ah. I'm more fond of gold, for rubies. And in general. Silver is very ... restrained."

He raises an eyebrow at Signless. "I mean, I don't know what sort of impression you're going for, here, but this ring," he waves it in the air "says 'i am fond of you, but our relationship is not one either of us would show off'. A gift for a friend, yes. Not so for ... a lover."

He blushes a little when he says "lover" and his ears twitch, briefly.

Edited 2013-06-09 21:07 (UTC)

His face brightens when he sees it's Jay. They've only spoken a few times, and the first one was a little rocky, but he's starting to grow genuinely fond of the man. It's clear he needs someone to be fond of him, after all, and how he responds with such amazement to any sort of kindness is endearing.

"It's meant for my moirail, which a human wouldn't term a lover, maybe? Since from what I've been able to gather a lover is someone you're concupiscent with, and we aren't that." He flicks his own (slightly smaller but no less pointy) ears back at Jay.

"Anyway, I wanted the silver because it's his color, and the ruby because it's mine. And he's very much not a flashy troll, so anything with one huge stone on it I don't think he'd wear."

Edited 2013-06-09 21:57 (UTC)

"A... claw machine."

He tries all the various different images that conjures up in his head and none of them make any contextual sense, so he's pretty certain he's missing something here.

"Is that a good thing?"

Any insincerity is completely lost on Signless, who's unused to expecting it except from people he already knows are insincere.

"It's not for me, actually. Though he does look a lot like me, and what he wears is usually subdued for the clothing here." He looks thoughtful. "I mostly want to make sure it's not too flashy for a gift."

Edited 2013-06-09 22:31 (UTC)

Jay blushes even more when he realises the Signless is happy to see him. This is very novel. He hands the ring back, noticeably less inflated with self-importance.

"Moirail," he says, carefully. "That's ... ah. That's like a cross between a best friend and a twin, yes, darling? In any case, if it's for Karkat, I think the ring will do fine. He is ... not a very fashionable individual. I'm sure he'll appreciate the lack of flash! And, ah. Obviously the thought behind the gift."

He feels a little pang of jealousy at the thought of someone caring enough about that horrid little grey boy enough to buy him gifts. He doesn't let it show, however. No need to look like a petulant child when it's not going to get him anything.

"Is it customary, to give moirails rings?" he asks, instead.

Terezi isn't really paying attention to the person browsing nearby, but she overhears his question to another. The voice catches in her ears, and it holds her attention enough that she turns just a bit to get a better scent from its owner. And that's all she really needs to realize that she's in the presence of something truly breath-taking...

A Jumbo-sized Karkat.

Okay, not exactly, but those nubby horns are so strikingly familiar that she almost starts laughing on the spot. There's another feeling, more melancholy than laughter on its heels, but she doesn't let that take root. She doesn't have time to reminisce on the fact that she hasn't met a single person she knows, yet, or how terribly lonely and worrisome that is.

Instead, she sidles closer to the older troll once he's done conversing and nimbly plucks the ring out of his hand.

"Garish? Have you looked around yourself lately? This ring is like the shitty cake topper for a five-story confectionery disaster. It is the least of your worries, but it would be a crime if I let you put this cherry-coated junk on your stubby paw. Absolutely not allowed, so terribly sorry!"

"No. Not at all. Claw machine toys are what, fifty cents? A dollar with inflation?"

She pouts her lip to the side and takes a deep breath as she considers the bracelets in front of her again. There's one that looks like a snake, but it might be a little too sexual unless she wants to market herself that way.

Prim studies the ring. She's never actually had someone ask her a question like this, before. As surprising as the question was, she found herself quietly staring at the ring as she thought on her answer.

"Maybe," she said, after a moment, glancing up. "I think the red makes it look sort of like blood. Or human blood," She added, glancing up at his horns. "And the silver sort of looks like your skin..." She half reaches out to touch it, but pauses to glance into his eyes instead.

"Is that what you wanted?"

Holmes gives the ring a onceover and nods, curtly.

"Garish," he agrees. "Whether it's too much or not depends on the occasion. Are you trying to tell someone they're so ostentatious as to appear cheap? Because if so that ring's a solid first step. Matches the sentiment perfectly. Which is why you see so many of them adorning the fingers of the Capitol's upper crust, I suppose, so on the other hand most who'd be on the receiving end of that message would be unable to decipher it."

Tirade over for the moment, he shoves his hands into the pockets of the newest outfit the stylists have seen fit to force him into (more black and gold, he swears he would have tried to fistfight that career instead if he'd known just how fixated on the wasps everyone else would become) and rocks back on his heels.

"But I take it that's not your aim here," he says, looking Signless in the face for the first time since he started talking.

It's not often that Eva goes to jewelry stores. Normally, her outfits are custom-ordered, designed between her and one of the few Stylists in the Capitol that she trusts and then tailored specifically for a body that's settled into middle-age. The only reason she's visiting one today is that she has an event to attend tonight, and some of the Sponsors are involved; as such, she'll be wearing barbed wire, and needs a necklace fixed and modified not to cut her own throat.

She's growing increasingly impatient with how long it's taking. Eva's never been one for waiting to be waited on, and her irritation is evident in the crinkle of her brow and the way her lower lip keeps trying to tuck to her teeth, the way the corners of her mouth squeeze. And it's then that a young man, a troll, approaches her with a red ring.

Welcoming the distraction, she holds her hand out to more closely examine the thing. "That depends on what's it's for, dear."

Neffa makes a decision. "Not at all," he says, raising his eyebrows, guileless. "It's beautiful. Clearly a thing of value." After his last encounter with a troll, he's resolved to keep his dealings with them as positive as possible - he's had enough pointed teeth flashed at him to last him a lifetime.

"Of course," he adds, "It depends just as much on what you intend to say with it. A ring is quite a personal gift."

Of course, Cuthbert has no problems with interrupting, especially when it's someone he knows.

"Is this for Karkat?"

He was along with Karkat when they picked up the tribute token for Signless. He hadn't considered that the other troll might return the favor before, but it makes sense now. He doesn't know what to make of the two to of them getting rings for each other, but he suspects it isn't as grand of a gesture as it is in his world.

He's about to tell her to give that back, please, when he realizes exactly what he's looking at.

A miniature Latula.

But it can't be her. The eyes are wrong, and the hair is too short (did she wear it shorter, when she was younger?). He hasn't seen her since a universe ago, of course, he could be misremembering.

"Latula?" he ventures.

"I was going more for my own blood, but it's the same hue as human blood so yes, that's what I wanted. The silver is for Karkat, since he's adopted gray as his shade. It's for him, I probably should have said..."

"No. No it isn't." He looks down at the right with a small frown. It does look a little like something a seadweller would wear, even if by Capitol standards it's practically conservative.

"It just needs to be bright red, and that's hard to find without it being... like this."

He doesn't know much about human money, and anyway the currency here isn't even on that system, so he's no closer to understanding what she means than he was before. But he assumes it's bad, and nods along as though it makes perfect sense.

"So what would look better? It needs to be bright red. That's the only thing I really insist on."

"Oh, well." He thinks. What does he intend to say? "This is for my moirail -- which doesn't mean anything to you, I'm sure. But it should say something like 'I care for you, and about your emotional wellbeing, and I'll always be there to make you feel better', or something to that effect. And it has to be bright red, because that's my color."

He nods.

"Or little trinkets. Rings, necklaces, clothing in your color or embroidered with your sign. This is the one he gave me." He holds out his hand, displaying the silver cancer sign ring for Jay to see. "It's his sign, and he's adopted gray as his hue, so it's in silver."

Not quite the reaction she was looking for. She's a little confused at the name, which should be answer enough for the older troll, but she responds anyway.

"Nope. Not even close." She slips the ring onto her finger so he can't snatch it back for the moment. As much as she claimed it to be garish, she doesn't seem to mind it on her. "Who is this Latula person, and why did you think I was her?"

"In that case..." Neffa examines the ring a few seconds longer. In all honesty, he does find it pretty-- more ostentatious than anything he would wear, but attention-catching in a good way. "I'd recommend saying as much, when you present it. Write it down, even. The meaning's as much a part of the gift as the ring itself-- don't let it be misunderstood."

His tone has turned professional without his realizing it, like the Signless had come to him asking for business advice. And, well, he's given similar advice before, if in a different context-- symbols are important. They make excellent gifts, too, in his experience - a shared symbol is its own kind of solid contract, a meaning exclusive to two people, secret and safe and more precious for being so.

His face falls, just a little. "She was someone I knew, a long time ago. You look a lot like her. That's all."

This is already awkward. Valiantly he tries to steer it back toward a topic of conversation that's a little safer.

"Do you really think it's that bad? The ring?"

That answer gets a skeptical expression from Terezi, but if she believes it or not, she doesn't say anything.

"It is utterly obtrusively loud. I could smell it from a mile away, but compared to everything else in this city..." She shrugs and holds the ring out on her finger to get a better angle of it. Then she sniffs it. "It's not an utter nightmare, I guess!l

She waves her hand around a bit more, inspecting the ring. "Who is it for?

"Hey, I love the color red. I used to be the color red." What's yellow and red and hot all over? Oh right, it's Venus Dee Milo. "But you're going to need a ruby or something. Anything super bright red is going to look like plastic, and that means it looks cheap and yeah-"

She sighs and drums her fingers on the counter. "Tacky."

"I think it works then," she declared, glancing into his eyes. "I don't really know what trolls like, though..." They did seem to have a preoccupation with blood, though.

"My moirail," he responds, watching her sniff the ring with genuine intrigue. Definitely not Latula, if she relies on her smell for anything. "He's already given me a ring, so I thought it was only right to repay him in kind."

"You used to be red?" he asks, completely sidetracked for the moment. "Do you mean they've changed your skin tone since you arrived? I know that's something they can do."

While he waits for an answer, he starts looking at the rubies. To a one the stones are all huge, opulent, just like the Capitol likes. He knows Karkat would hate them.

"Mostly, things that aren't too ostentatious, unless they're highbloods and then it's all jewelry all the time."

He thought of Meenah and her piercings and golden trident.

"Most trolls in our social caste just like simple, serviceable clothing. Function over form. That's why I liked this one, it doesn't have any large stone sticking out that might get caught on anything. I don't know. If you were getting one, which would you choose?"

He nods. He'd planned to do something like that anyway, a little speech, a special presentation because this was something special.

"You sound like you have experience giving these kinds of gifts."

That draws a smile from him, with more than a little relief in it. This troll's a good deal friendlier than the one he'd tried to bond with over honeycakes, and a good deal less intimidating.

Neffa's not in the habit of giving gifts, personally, but he takes it as a compliment-- as proof of advice well-taken. "Close," he says, with a shrug. "I have experience judging the worth of things."

He glances at the rows and rows of silver and gold pendants, bracelets, gem-set brooches, in the display case. "They're fond of measuring value purely in coin expended here, and letting expense carry meaning. But real meaning - the kind that can only be granted, never bought - that's worth more than the ruby inlay, wouldn't you say?"

"Hmmm..." Terezi is not necessarily the guru in romantic gestures, but she seems to give this some legitimate thought for a moment.

"I suppose for a conciliatory romantic gesture, it is not too terrible. It's still garish as hell, but who knows! Maybe your papping buddy likes that sort of thing."

She takes the ring off again, then flips it into the air like a quarter. The aim is fairly accurate and the arc is high, dropping down in front of Signless if he has the reflexes to catch it.

"Why bright red, though?"

"Sort of? I didn't used to have a body." She runs a hand down from her neck, down her curves to her knee. "But now I do. And it's a nice one, right?"

"I think so. I never had very much wealth, before I came here, and I'm not sure I trust this card, because the only way to make money is to kill and I won't do that."

He still isn't sure how he's going to pay back whatever he ends up spending on this ring, either. It's been a niggling doubt in the back of his head all day.

"The thought behind it is all I really have."

"I was taught that without thought behind it, a gift is worth near nothing." Not quite the phrasing of the First Contract; magic has more to do with determining how much coin the thought behind something is worth than trading thoughts for thoughts. But it's a pretty platitude, and so he delivers it blithely, without irony.

He's not given much thought to the limits of his own card. It's like its own kind of magic, really - he doesn't know what well of coin it's drawing from, and he doesn't particularly want to know. "But-- buying alliances with gifts," he says, eyebrows raised, this time with a hint of humor-- "You're a radical. Death has rather a higher exchange value here than affection, I've noticed."

Jay takes the Signless's hand and brings the ring closer to his face, to get a better look, completely unmindful that this is rather invasion of personal space. But he's never mindful of that, so who's surprised?

"Adopted? I thought trolls were assigned hues?"

"I don't think I've ever had any jewelry," she admitted, not quite looking at him. "I don't know if we'd like the same things." she felt a bit guilty now, knowing that what she'd like best would probably be the fancy and non-functional ones.

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