o5 ♫ Turnabout Fashion Sense

[guiltyguitar]

Characters: Klavier Gavin, Aziraphale, anyone else who wants to hop in (Crowley or Ema, for example~)
Location: Clothing store; somewhere in the markets.
Time: Afternoon (late 4pmish)
Style: Either's fine with me. I'll reply likewise.
Status: Let's see, as far as the main thread, uh, no. But you're free to bother Klavier before he finds Aziraphale

Comments

[girlpowertouka]

[And Touka just happens to be walking out of one of the clothing shops, laden down with many bags. Maybe she went a little overboard, but hey...FREE CLOTHES. AND SHOES. AND ACCESSORIES. She is in teenage-girl heaven, and happily humming and singing a song she made up as she skips along.]

Clothes, clothes, clothes, so many clothes...skirts and tops and shoes with bows...hmm hmm hmm.

[guiltyguitar]

[ ... Pfft this girl is adorable. Absolutely ADORABLE. Klavier's going to readjust which hand is holding his guitar case and grin. ]

Hey, now. Don't go overboard, you might have a shopping explosion, Fräulein.

[girlpowertouka]

[Touka stops, looks over, and grins guiltily. She giggles.]

Sorry. I did go a little overboard, I guess.

[She looks down at her bags.]

I just really love clothes.

[And she's never had money to actually be able to buy any, so, again, teenage-girl heaven.]

[guiltyguitar]

Well, besides practical purposes, I believe most people do rather enjoy clothing, ja? Though sometimes it can be hazardous; I've heard bad fashion sense can cause nuclear meltdowns, you know.

[ Have a wink from the blond. He chuckles. ] Just remember that we're still their guests, after all. Though it's nice to see someone around here happy!

[benevolist]

Aziraphale, quite literally speechless, was standing rather awkwardly in the clothing store of the middle district. He was a trifle angry, but he was doing his best to look calm - it would be simply terrible if he accidentally indulged in wrath. The poor shopkeeper (who seemed like the most charming lady) did not deserve to feel his prickling ire at being coerced (not tempted) into this by Crowley.

For Go-Goodness sake, tartan was still stylish!

The angel didn't particularly want to go out and meet this man who, supposedly, was going to repair his fashion sense, but Crowley had already put the man to so much trouble. Aziraphale was not the type to go so far as to stand someone up - which was why he was standing, awkwardly silent and dressed in his traditional suit - in the middle of the city with a faint, awkward blush on his cheeks. He certainly felt rather ridiculous: he did not need help dressing himself!*

(*Except, in the opinion of everyone who has ever met Aziraphale, he totally did).

[scaresplants]

Crowley couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. That rocker lawyer actually believed that he could fix Aziraphale's fashion sense? That was like trying to sit through one hour of Welsh-language television without having the urge to throw the TV out of the window. Crowley had been rather proud of that feature when he had created it at the time.

So, he had left his apartment to go and watch the entire event. This was going to be good. He needed a bit of entertainment nowadays, what with the absence of anything related to the TV and the Internet.

There was a little jingle of the bells on the door of the store as the demon walked in. He immediately spotted Aziraphale, who stood out like an albino alligator in an opera theater. Not that albino alligators hung around opera theaters, but that was besides the point.

"So, are you ready, angel? The guy is quite determined to get you a new look, no matter what it takes." Crowley said, grinning as he walked up to his blushing best friend.

[benevolist]

Aziraphale looked up, lips pursing a little when he spotted his friend. He tried to recall why he was going through this (it certainly wasn't a hobby of his, save that one time in ancient Rome when - yeah) but he couldn't complain. Literally. Written notes on his little high-tech walkie-talkie thing was not the same as his preferred sarcastic retort, and he was sure Crowley knew it. Sly, to use this week to his advantage somehow.

Reaching into his pocket (oh, that's where his spare hankey had gotten to, clever little thing) the angel pulled out his SFC, lifting it and changing it as best he could to the text option. He had been playing with the device in order to try and learn about it; he had been marginally successful. Some things, he decided, should be left for Crowley. Electronics was one of those things.

"I hope you realise, my dear, that this is going to be one of your very few unsuccessful ventures." The angel was adamant that he would leave the store as he entered - lovely, stylish tartan dreams intact. The demon could wile

[scaresplants]

Crowley chuckled as he watched the angel pulling out the SFC. So, he had actually learned quite a bit about how to use it. That was making progress. Normally he would expect the angel to use hand-written notes, or worse, carrier pigeons. (Crowley still had a grudge against the creatures ever since one had found it quite the time to do it's business all over his best outfit.)

"I know, angel. That's why I came to watch. You are like a brick wall when it comes to this kind of stuff." Crowley looked around, smiling broadly. He never had the need to go into this type of store, seeing as he could make clothes on will, but it was interesting to see what the humans were offering. It wasn't bad. It would be a good first start for the angel if he actually was convinced to change his fashion sense, which was never.

He turned back to Aziraphale and scoffed. "Yeah, right. When pigs fly. It's good to keep up with the times, Aziraphale. Saves you from events like this. If you were like me, you'd never have to be forced into a clothing store."

[snackoosftw]

[Ema has lost her sense of taste. Seriously. Out of all the senses, this place would take away her sense of taste. She had tried to eat her snackoos this morning along with her morning coffee but something had been wrong. Terribly wrong. She's in a state of panic and is on quest to find anything that she can taste. She's so caught up in her quest that she doesn't notice Klavier either.]

[guiltyguitar]

[ And since Klavier is a preoccupied fellow as well, this can only end-- ]

Ah!

[ --disastrously. Oh hi Ema, he just knocked straight into you. Which is actually rather unlike him, but being unable to taste really sucks. Trust him, he knows your pain. ... Though he didn't quite want to know your pain LITERALLY. Nor cause it. Man, how did he end up walking into you, anyway? ]

Gott, don't you ever pay attention to where you're going? I could have broken my neck, or strained a vocal chord, or--

[ --Oh. ... It's Ema. ... Wow, this is awkward. Uh, hi! ]

[snackoosftw]

[And in a blaze of glimmerous fop and lab coats, Ema is pretty much thrown to the ground as she - no, he collides into her. Klavier, you're gonna wish that you hadn't said that in that tone.]

Oh, believe me. A strained vocal chord is the least of your worries.

[guiltyguitar]

[ KSkdfjhdkfjghkfjgh--oh shit oh shit. She's SCARY when she's angry. ]

... Ach!

[ WHAT DOES HE DO? Klavier holds his aching forehead. ] I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you!