[open] do you buy a titsling or do you buy a brassiere?

[shadepossessed]

Who: Kainé and open!
What: Shopping and loitering. Well, window shopping. Mostly loitering.
Where: Various, primarily on the Near Shore.
Why: why not
When: May 11th (a) and 12th (b & c).
Warnings: Kainé's mouth and clothes, guns, probably gender/sex issues.

[ a - for aditi, closed to sharak. ]

[It's been a few days and her embarrassment over being called Sharak's perfect match -- as well as every other thing said that made her spit fire because it was easier than blushing -- has calmed down, leaving her to dwell on the rest of the conversation. She watches their stupid rooster strut across the hall, sighs, then marches out to find Sharak.]

Hey. I'm the weapon. I don't need a gun to make threats less empty, you know.

[...BELATEDLY, SHE REALIZES THIS IS KINDA APROPOS OF NOTHING. Whatever, too late.]

[ b - for bras, bloomers, bikinis, and bodices. ]

[She's in heaven. Not the Far Shore kind of heaven, but a more private heaven that scooped her up and held her close with a silky softness. This is hosiery heaven. Hard to imagine it exists, when everyone went around covered up like they did.

But it's real! And...real expensive. But she can still do some more window shopping, taking longer to examine the look and feel of the lingerie now that she didn't have her god hanging around trying her best to exchange wiles for weapons.]

You gotta be shitting me with this prices... That one cuts in too much to ever be worth it. Fucking criminal...

[ c - for clean clams crammed in clean cans. ]

I'm not the fig plucker, nor the fig plucker's son, but I'll pluck figs till the fig plucker comes.

[Kainé hums pleasantly, lifting a flower from a nearby bed to her nose. Apparently satisfied, she twirls it between her fingers and sets off again, heels clicking softly on the floor of the garden center. She liked being here, on the Near Shore, where she could wander among people at her leisure because they couldn't see her. It was calming, being so unremarkable. Made her feel like a part of something. Just another regular cog in the machine.]

I'm not the fig plucker, nor the fig plucker's son, but I'll pluck figs till the fig plucker comes. I'm not the fig plucker, nor the fig plucker's fucking son, but I'll pluck fucking figs till the fig plucker comes. I'm not the fig pluckerfuck, nor the fig pluckerfuck's son, but I'll fucking pluck figs till the fucking fig pluckfucker comes.

[And so she continues, gradually slipping more and more cursing in... Doesn't really seem to be getting as frustrated as her words suggest, though, or even at all.]

Comments

[shadepossessed]

No shit. Some of these look like they were made by people who hate chests, not who want to clothe them.

[Why a wire there??? Truly a mystery.]

Sound like you've done it before.

[heptagram]

There are many things I am very knowledgeable about but have not personally attempted.

Then again, nowadays, I have a bit of a shortcut with my abilities.

[shadepossessed]

[Kainé sighs a little, a little disappointed, maybe, with that answer. That kind of answer was all bark and no bite.]

Oh yeah? [She sounds bored.] And what would that be?

[heptagram]

...hang on a moment.

[She's going to search through her clothes real quick. Still talking while she does that.]

If I can describe something in words, I can manifest it. I'll demonstrate if I can find something to write with, and something to write on.

[shadepossessed]

Huh.

[Sounds...worth witnessing. And more interesting than Sharak trying to walk up a wall, though that had its own hilarious perks.]

Can't write on your own arm?

[heptagram]

I think I could.

[She's pulled a pen and a small notepad from out of her dress.] On the other hand, I've found this already.

Okay... tell me something you want. Relatively small works best, or I will have to spend more time writing.

[shadepossessed]

[Uh, wow. Something she wants.

...fuck what would that even be, uh. UH.]

A...hair clip? [?????] Fuck, I don't know, it's your damn demonstration.

[heptagram]

Stricken with indecision, are you? [She chuckles.] Hairclip it is.

[So, a few scribbles later, she manifests a cute little silvery barrette on her hands. She almost put a little purple (of course) ankh symbol (she's really getting into her status as an ancient Egyptian god, eh) on it -- but this is to be a gift!]

Simple. I could do something larger in scale, but it would take longer. Also, generally speaking, I can't just write in the solution to one of my problems and circumvent the work.

[shadepossessed]

Huh.

[ h u h . ]

So, what. You could make a hammer, but as soon as you've got a nail in front of you, you couldn't?

[heptagram]

Either that or it wouldn't work right, like it might turn to dust mid-swing, or something.

[shadepossessed]

[And so again,] Huh.

[What a weird ability...]

Not really useful for what we were talking about then, huh? Unless you like dust in your skirts.

[heptagram]

I just have to find a less-than-direct way to do it, I guess. It could be a bit of a puzzle.

[Patchouli Knowledge, Adventure Game Protagonist.]

[shadepossessed]

Sounds like a pain in the ass to me. I'd rather make my fingers bleed trying to sew than bother doing mental backflips.

[heptagram]

I'm more receptive to such things, so I don't mind it so much. To each their own, I guess.