Liquid → 003
Who: Liquid Snake and whoever decides to join
Where: Shopping District
Style: Whichever
Status: Open
Liquid, still unfortunately female, was standing in a store in the shopping district, staring with bewildered confusion at a selection of feminine undergarments. For once he was thankfully shirted, if only because doing otherwise would get him arrested, but he'd found that lacking certain garments led to unfortunate consequences in terms of support for his newly developed chest.
And he was hopelessly, utterly lost.
There were just so many of them. He hadn't realized that women's underwear came in so many types, colors, styles and functions that it would take an entire store to house them all. He's expected to walk in and walk out with a few and that would be that, but instead he'd found himself standing in a sea of lacy undergarments without the slightest clue as to how to pick. It didn't help that the sizes made no sense to him; how was he supposed to know? What was the difference, size-wise, between a B and a C? Why was it that after D it went DD instead of E? What did any of these mean in terms of volume, and how the fuck was he supposed to know his own?
Liquid was glad he wasn't normally a woman. All of this looked terribly complicated.
There was only one thing he could think of to do; he'd have to ask. Since there were no other women in the store, and he had no desire to ask one of the ones hanging about behind the counter-- the only other one was in the section of the store where things were so lacy and ribbon-y and pink that he didn't think he'd be able to stand being over there-- that left one option.
The Dreamberry.
He sent out a general transmission to the entirety of Somarium; at least some of them would be girls and would know what the fuck was going on with this. Mustering whatever dignity he had, Liquid sent out a video message.
"Does anyone here know how, exactly, one goes about wearing a bra?"
Where: Shopping District
Style: Whichever
Status: Open
Liquid, still unfortunately female, was standing in a store in the shopping district, staring with bewildered confusion at a selection of feminine undergarments. For once he was thankfully shirted, if only because doing otherwise would get him arrested, but he'd found that lacking certain garments led to unfortunate consequences in terms of support for his newly developed chest.
And he was hopelessly, utterly lost.
There were just so many of them. He hadn't realized that women's underwear came in so many types, colors, styles and functions that it would take an entire store to house them all. He's expected to walk in and walk out with a few and that would be that, but instead he'd found himself standing in a sea of lacy undergarments without the slightest clue as to how to pick. It didn't help that the sizes made no sense to him; how was he supposed to know? What was the difference, size-wise, between a B and a C? Why was it that after D it went DD instead of E? What did any of these mean in terms of volume, and how the fuck was he supposed to know his own?
Liquid was glad he wasn't normally a woman. All of this looked terribly complicated.
There was only one thing he could think of to do; he'd have to ask. Since there were no other women in the store, and he had no desire to ask one of the ones hanging about behind the counter-- the only other one was in the section of the store where things were so lacy and ribbon-y and pink that he didn't think he'd be able to stand being over there-- that left one option.
The Dreamberry.
He sent out a general transmission to the entirety of Somarium; at least some of them would be girls and would know what the fuck was going on with this. Mustering whatever dignity he had, Liquid sent out a video message.
"Does anyone here know how, exactly, one goes about wearing a bra?"