...wait what?

[oxenstierna_b]

Who: Atthis and Berwald
Where: Athiss' soap store
When: Monday afternoon, May 3rd.
What: This is not the hardware store Berwald was looking for

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[sapphicfragment]

Retrospectively, he couldn't quite recollect the store having such a breezy, pleasant blue interior either. Or the soft strumming of guitar cords flooding in from the overhead speakers. Which, if he were right, were also a new addition. Gone were the hammers, the plywood, the screws. As he shuffled in, peering about with evident confusion, his memories of the old storefront with the squinting, amiable gent behind the front counter bowed before the glimmer
of a modernized, Mediterranean paradise somehow contained within four very small walls.

Racks lined the walls where a massive mural of Grecian life did not cover the surface. He stumbled around large wicker bins teeming with colorful bars of what looked to be soaps. The counter, cleaned and resurfaced, gleamed under the dazzling florescent light from above.

Seated behind an ancient relic of a register- albeit, a beautifully polished artifact- fiddling with a roll of receipt paper, a woman distinctly lacking in the wrinkled pale visage Berwald was used to seeing murmured lowly to herself before standing, tossing the roll behind her and cursing loudly in an incomprehensible language.

Until she noticed the large, imposing figure glowering out at the displays.

Her dark brows creased, but a smile came to her full lips and she flicked her wrist with a gesture that must have been meant as some form of greeting. "I'm sorry, Sir, can I help you-?"

[oxenstierna_b]

"Uh, was looking f'r the h'rdware..." Berwald started to mumble, his voice petering out as he realized he was obviously either at the wrong place, or even more likely, at the wrong time. Precisely, too late. Then he just stood there, feeling out of place and awkward. And, now his glasses had finally cleared out he saw just how out of place, especially still holding his groceries and...he couldn't even back away because his elbow was too close to knocking over a basked full of dainty and fragile looking...was that soap shaped like flowers? It even smelled just like a basketful of actual flowers would, Berwald noted. That was actually rather nice.

But the woman behind the counter had asked something hadn't she? The panic that had eased momentarily from the distraction provided by the soap flowers returned. Berwald had never been very good at talking with women, less so when he was so badly out of his element.
"Wrong place, 'ry" he mumbled, frowning furiously.

[sapphicfragment]

"Looking for... h'rdware..." She peered at him through slitted eyes, a frown tugging lightly on her features and Berwald might have thought she looked insulted were it not for her tone. Curiousity, a hint of bewilderment.

Atthis leaned back, a hand balanced firmly on her hip. "Ah- hardware, yes? Alas, dear, the owner's illness had taken a turn for the worse and he was forced to sell. Hence-" A thin arm swept out in a granduoise gesture. "Here we are."

Her head tilted slightly, long nailed fingers tapped lightly against her chin. "If you have a need for cleaning supplies, however, then happy day~! We have those in abundance."

[oxenstierna_b]

Berwald nodded seriously, his mouth turning down at the news.

"'s too bad...f'r 'im," he mumbled, looking around awkwardly again. He noticed Flower Egg sniffing at another soap display, and tugged at her leash. Then he turned towards the shopowner, face crumpled up in an embarrassed frown.

"Sorry 'bout 'er, didn't know..." he trailed off, unsure how to continue.