OPEN: get in the car we're going shopping

[initiatesnpc]

Date & Time: 8/21-8/23 daytime
Location: Outside a civilian residential apt building
Characters: BIG SPENDERS or anyone really just tag your butts in and go to town
Summary: Yard saaaale. In the street. Because what is a yard in the future.
Warnings: Blood spilled over ShamWow??


What had begun as the idea of two became the realization of at least seven — all landlord approved and with nods of approval from neighboring apartment buildings. It didn't even take up a full block, but it was full enough to attract attention of passers-by on the morning hustle to work, saddling them up with something worth spreading to others along the grapevine throughout the day.

Mostly clothes and household items easily given up, but here and there a few gems. A would-be Initiative member had no need for old board games or a guitar or two, and there would be no time to take care of a pet, even one so curious and darling as Blinky. Now and then, its soon-to-be-ex-owner cast a sorrowful glance its way, only to get a slow, out-of-synch blink in response.

Oh, Blinky.

Parting woes aside, business wasn't bad! With the shabby state of affairs in Exsilium, the chance for something new, even a hand-me-down, always sparked interest. And with so many strange, new recruits, there was bound to be someone curious enough to drop down the cash for the most absorbent fabric ever made (those Germans made good stuff)...

And so, after the work buses left the area, the tables went up and the wares were put out until the workday would come to a close and force the tables out of the street. Someone was bound to score something worthwhile in that time over those three days...!


REFERENCE: Stuff for sale

Comments

[toprotect]

[Sticks out like the most awesome sore thumb and this drab place is totally jealous of it. But when Fang approaches, even without knowing her face from when he got here, there's no way he couldn't place where she's from.

What he can't place is the awful shirt she lifts up. But this game? He can play this game.] Maybe. I can't see my eyes after all. But I just don't think there's enough color.

[Now it's his turn to produce this ridiculously bright tie-dye shirt that is not only far bigger than he is, but quite the hideous combination of colors.] What about this one?

[Hideous clothes contest is go. Your move, Fang.]

[transgressed]

[It's totally jelly of their awesome character designs!

Fang likes a person who can take a joke, so she rolls along with it without missing a beat.] Hmm...I don't know. It clashes a little with your hair.

["A little." Finally, she chuckles.] No wonder this stuff is going for so cheap.

[toprotect]

[Absolutely. Because nothing can be even half as fabulous as they are.

He holds the shirt up and gives it a once-over.] You think so? [Don't mind him as he adopts something of a thoughtful look before putting it back down on the pile.

Her chuckle was enough to end the little game, so he'll smile as well.] Not everything's so bad, but you really have to dig for anything good.

[The 'anything good' he found is a deep blue, thick but smooth scarf he has draped over one shoulder. So far, anyway.]

[transgressed]

[The scarf catches her attention, and she gives the boxes of clothing a quizzical look.] All right. Help me look around, then.

[Yep, Noel. You've been recruited for clothes shopping duty.] I don't care about this stuff, but Vanille might. Let's find something for her.

[toprotect]

[Oh. Well! Okay then, he can do that. Though shopping isn't his strong point, he can at least point out things worth what's being asked. Nothing like those awful shirts they found, first of all.]

Okay... [But.] What kinds of things does she like? [He couldn't even shop for Serah, who he knows fairly well. Help please?]

[transgressed]

Bright things. [The response is immediate. Fang has already begun searching through boxes of old clothing for something that might hit the mark.] She might need a scarf like yours, for the winter here. I've got no idea how cold it gets.