rodeo drive, baby.

[tender]

WHO: Chaos shoppers
WHAT: Preparations for fancy party
WHEN: Mid-Kingsway
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: We're here to peer pressure Ellie and acquire some fancy clothes, folks.

The invitation had said Formal attire required.

There is, of course, some question as to what exactly "formal attire" means when it's an Orlesian issuing the invitation, but without a doubt it means a trip to a certain swath of shops in Hightown where formal attire is available in a variety of different options. Does formal attire mean dresses with hip-high slits? Does it mean a silk tunic with an abundance of ruffles? Does it mean velvet or brocade or chiffon?

The shopkeepers will be sure to advise, if given even a breath of opportunity to swoop in with their suggestions. A budget? What's that? Surely it's not applicable to such a momentous occassion. Why, just step this way, look at this garment, one of a kind, isn't the color just divine—

Comments

[notathreat]

None of the clothes really jump out at her as something she could see herself wearing. Back home she hadn't had an interest in clothes in what felt like years; she'd defaulted more and more to wearing old things of Joel's until they started to fall apart. His old shirts, his jackets...

Even before then it had been graphic t-shirts, sweatshirts, plain jeans. The only thing she really had gotten into were her sneakers, but they don't make anything like them here.

She rubs some of the velvet between her fingers, thoughtful, and when Derrica calls her back to earth, she doesn't fight the beginnings of a grin.

"That actually sounds awesome," she says in utter seriousness. "I mean, not that somebody ordered an assassin. An undercover operation. Did you get them?"

[tender]

"I think we must have. I don't really remember, exactly."

It seems like an odd thing to forget, but, well—

A small, rueful smile, one shoulder shrugging. She remembers what she'd been doing for the end of that party, and it had occupied most of her attention. But considering the night hadn't ended in tragedy but instead in everyone leaving more or less uneventfully, they must have prevented the actual assassination.

"It was a strange party," Derrica proclaims. "Romain's will be easier. All we have to do is enjoy ourselves."

Which sounds simple, even if Derrica has a suspicion that Ellie might find it a little more difficult than just arriving and going with the flow.

[notathreat]

"Must not have been that important."

Derrica would remember if anybody died, surely. Ellie gives her a thoughtful look, then reaches past her to feel a length of watered silk, letting it slip through her fingers. It's beautifully soft, and it seems to almost catch on her rough fingertips.

"How do you even wash something like this?" she mumbles. "What if you got blood on it?"