Nicki Grant was a catalog shopper. A Home Shopping Network addict. Bill had taken all her plastic away, and she just knew someone was weeding through her mail before it got to her, but she had money of her own, after what she and her mother had taken from Albie, stashed away for rainy days and the occasional splurges.
That was all gone, now.
She wasn't supposed to want nice things, she knew that, but standing in front of the booth at the market, she had stars in her eyes. Especially for that leather jacket. Maybe not the most appropriate color in the world, but it was Armani. The craftsmanship was incredible. It might've just been the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
Letting her fingertips ghost over the sleeve, she asked, "What do you want for this?" Oh, and look at that handbag!
Back home, most of what Bobby had probably woulda gone for a lot more. But this was the island, and money didn't exactly have much use here. Bobby didn't expect - or want - all that much for Bela's stuff.
"What do you got?" he said to the woman. "Make me an offer."
"I've only just gotten here. I don't have much of anything," she said, her eyes still on that coat... and that bag, with a tiny shrill of anxiousness already creeping up into her voice. Her eyes narrowed. "How did you end up with all these things anyway?"
"Someone I knew came to the island with all this stuff, and when she disappeared I got left with it," Bobby explained. He didn't think he and Bela would've called each other friends by the time she disappeared, but their relationship was definitely not as...chilly as it had once been. "I'm not expectin' much, really. I'll take food, even."
Natalya couldn't help but stop at the table. There were... things, on it, that she hadn't seen in some time. Like the black pumps.
Not that she had any conceivable use for black pumps, but they were there, and arranged with the other items in a way that implied they were available, although in exchange for what she couldn't guess. Probably not coconuts. Hardly dressed the part of a Gucci connoisseur in shorts, combat boots, and a Harvard t-shirt with a patchy yoga bag over her shoulder, she stayed on the toiletry side as she perused, casually. She cast a vaguely questioning gaze over the man sitting behind the collection.
"Hopefully these no are the remnants of a relationship?"
That made Bobby chuckle a little, the idea that he'd be gettin' tangled in a relationship at his age. "Nope," he replied. "Just some stuff a gal I knew left behind when she disappeared."
Coraline approached Bobby's table, looked at him and took a breath before blushing bright red and darting away again. Coraline hid out of sight whilst she wrung her t-shirt in her hands before she made another approach. Daddy said being brave meant doing things even when you were scared and didn't want to. At least she thought he did, she wasn't sure anymore.
"CanIhavethemakeupplease?" Coraline said in one big rush of noise before she looked down and away. "I mean, hi Mister Bobby. What do you want for the um stuff that makes girls pretty? I'm a good worker, I'm really tidy and I'm good at finding things. Really good."
"I'm almost thirteen," Coraline stated simply. "Well, twelve and a bit. But that's practically a grown up. And I-and I want to look pretty. Everyone else looks really pretty but I just look boring."
"All right," Bobby said, after lookin' at Coraline for a moment. "Tell you what. I'll letcha have this..." He picked up one of the items. "This pressed powder for now, and if you come back at the end of the day and the rest of it's still here, you can have it."
Without her day job- or night job, for that matter- to keep her occupied, Buffy had taken to walking around the island in her spare time. The inertia of life on the island contrasted quite a bit with her fast-paced life. At least this way she could tell herself she was doing something with her time, familiarizing herself with as much as she possibly could.
The Market probably wasn't the ideal destination for a girl with only two feet of barbed wire to her name but it was also uncharted territory. Why not?
It was an amusing contradiction, the man who looked like he wouldn't be caught dead in a shopping mall watching over a table holding every item on every girl's most wildest and unrealistic wish list. She eyed the foundation for a moment, noting how convenient it was that she'd be caught without any the one time her wounds were forced to heal at a normal rate. But it had been almost two weeks already and Buffy could handle looking like a punching bag for a little longer. She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Belated spring cleaning?"
"No, no," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I've only been here a week and I was out admiring the- actually, there's no view here. Just out exploring, then."
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That was all gone, now.
She wasn't supposed to want nice things, she knew that, but standing in front of the booth at the market, she had stars in her eyes. Especially for that leather jacket. Maybe not the most appropriate color in the world, but it was Armani. The craftsmanship was incredible. It might've just been the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.
Letting her fingertips ghost over the sleeve, she asked, "What do you want for this?" Oh, and look at that handbag!
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"What do you got?" he said to the woman. "Make me an offer."
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Not that she had any conceivable use for black pumps, but they were there, and arranged with the other items in a way that implied they were available, although in exchange for what she couldn't guess. Probably not coconuts. Hardly dressed the part of a Gucci connoisseur in shorts, combat boots, and a Harvard t-shirt with a patchy yoga bag over her shoulder, she stayed on the toiletry side as she perused, casually. She cast a vaguely questioning gaze over the man sitting behind the collection.
"Hopefully these no are the remnants of a relationship?"
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"CanIhavethemakeupplease?" Coraline said in one big rush of noise before she looked down and away. "I mean, hi Mister Bobby. What do you want for the um stuff that makes girls pretty? I'm a good worker, I'm really tidy and I'm good at finding things. Really good."
Reply
Reply
Reply
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The Market probably wasn't the ideal destination for a girl with only two feet of barbed wire to her name but it was also uncharted territory. Why not?
It was an amusing contradiction, the man who looked like he wouldn't be caught dead in a shopping mall watching over a table holding every item on every girl's most wildest and unrealistic wish list. She eyed the foundation for a moment, noting how convenient it was that she'd be caught without any the one time her wounds were forced to heal at a normal rate. But it had been almost two weeks already and Buffy could handle looking like a punching bag for a little longer. She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Belated spring cleaning?"
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