It's Not a Fashion Statement, It's a Death Wish

[Lucien]

The young boy padded uneasily into the small shop that had the pungent smell of moth deterrents and dust. The floor was ill swept and the racks of clothes had a coating of dust on them. The shop seemed abandoned, lifeless; its counter a sentry post without a guard, a strange assortment of tailor's tools left without a worker. In truth, it would've been easy for Lucien to rob the place blind. More likely than not, the clerk kept his weekly earnings in a small box, locked or not, beneath the desk. A few smacks from a rock outside could easily open it up.

Deep down however, he could never stomach theft. But he still craved attention for something.

"Uh, Hello? Anyone back there?" God almighty did he need a new set of clothes.

[AdventWings]

It was not such a farfetched idea that a robbery would go so much without a hitch. In truth, the owner could care less if he was suddenly robbed by a mere child.

Weezing laborously, the old man slowly rose from the bench in his workshop and approached the front desk with the agility of a tortoise.

"What can I offer you, sir?" His raspy voice echoed in the run-down old shop, reverberating along its weathered walls.

Not many customers visit this shop anymore, ever since the Radasanthian fashion shifted so many times the old man merely gave up on following it. There were always returners, though far and few in between.

[Lucien]

An aged old creature appeared, slowly however, from the back room. With a throat as raw as his wrinkled face, he simply asked what Lucien was interested in. "Not too good of a salesman. I've been to stores where the second I walked in I had three bags full of crap I didn't need."

"Well," he said in a shy and unsure voice, "I need a new outfit, something a bit more high end than what I'm wearing. A few lay down, black, cotton shirt. Black denim pants, one or two pairs that is. A red tie, a few pairs of undergarments, and of course," he stopped for a few moments to point to his barefeet. "Shoes."

[AdventWings]

Glancing over the youth in his store, also the only customer in the past few weeks, Collins let out a dry cough before giving the boy a casual smile.

"So it seems... I can help you with those... follow me..."

The old merchant turned slowly andn headed for a row of closets, ingeniously built right into the tiny shop's walls with creaky hinged doors serving as the shutters. Opening the panes out, the man revealed a line of tailored shirts, pants and an assortment of clothing the colors of night.

"Not many people come here, as you can see..." Collins paused to clear some dust from his nose, "because they don't appreciate the trend of dark clothing. Those Radasanthian fashion police weren't the kind you wanted to mingle with either, so I just stuck to my style and made only these kinds. I do hope you find some that you like, young man."

He knew he had a sizable collection of denim pants of the same hue, though it had been so long since he could stitch them into durable pieces of clothing due to his deteriorating age. There were also a few drawers of undergarments and socks nearby, which he found after a good deal of rummaging the shelves, as well as a few accessories he thought the young man might be interested with.

"As for them shoes..." Collins spoke up as he pulled out a drawer on the opposite wall, revealing a set of old sewing equipments and a box of dried human fingers, "I do not have any that might be of... your taste. If you're keen on hand-made ones, that Leatherworks Shop a couple of blocks down the road could make them for you. Miri's a good girl, too. One o' ma best students..."

His speech was interrupted with a dry, wheezing cough as he pushed the drawer back into place.

"So, bring the wares over to the counter and I'll appraise them for you... Shouldn't be too expensive for someone such as yourself..."

[Lucien]

The dust from draws and closet doors opening was enough to cause any wind pipe to seize up; the debris was almost a thick and heavy haze in the air, causing the light to act in strange ways. That, coupled with a deathly silence after the work was done, was enough to send even the most stalwart customers towards the door. But Lucien, tired of his current and lacking wardrobe, pressed on through the dust.

Padding up to the front counter with the various items, careful not to let a single one touch the sullied floor; he thanked the good lord he had found that gift check lying in the streets. The bazaar, desperate for attention during the times of war, were in need of advertisement. So much so that they'd begun giving out notes of credit to any of the affluent. Lucien was just lucky he found one.

"So how much? I'll go the the show shop after this."

[AdventWings]

There was a good thing about making one's own style of clothing using one's own skill instead of just ordering in: Collins could price them as high or low as he wanted to as long as it meant the sales would not take him into the red.

"Aye, that'll be 200 pieces total for all the stuff you have here..." He said after looking over the wares, mentally tallying up the numbers according to his own prices, "...Unless you're lookin' to get something more...?"

One cotton shirt... two denim jeans... couple of undergarments and a bright red tie... doesn't that remind me of something familiar...

"So-" Collins halted to cough out the dust breezing about in the small, neglected store, "...Ugh, would that be all?"

[Lucien]

Somehow Lucien could tell that he was being overcharged. Perhaps it was the twinkle in the salesman's eye, or perhaps it was the boy's experience of working in a clothing store during his youth; or just maybe it was the fact that Lucien could do basic math, and the numbers didn't add up.

Still, it wasn't his money he was playing with. With a grim sort of smile, he laid the bazaar note on the table. "Well, yeah, that'll be all. And I have this right here. I hope that's alright."

He wanted to get out of the dusty place as soon as he could, his longs were growing chalky and the need for shoes was ever present in the slippery coating of dust on the floor.

[AdventWings]

He could tell the young boy was a bit agitated. True, the prices were fairly higher than what others would sell... had it not been for the slightly higher quality and a touch more style to the trims. Still, a sale was a sale. He could not complain, as long as it brought food to the table.

"Paper... money?" Collins grinned, shaking his head in disdain. Those bigwigs in the Capital must have been getting bored with just turning this place into an Empire. "It'll do, son."

Taking the piece of paper, the old man coughed raggedly and fished out another piece of paper, similar to the one the youth had gave him earlier.

"Some of the officials from the Capital said I'd need these. Didn't really think I'd do, but here you are."

Those Radasanthian bureaucrats were always full of surprises.

[Lucien]

The time in the store had offered a plethora of memories that the boy didn't much care for. But he was glad it was over.

"Deal." There was little tone to his voice, only a quick eye movement that betrayed his boredom. He wanted to move on, wanted his stuff bagged, and wanted to get a pair of shoes on him as quick as he could.

Excitement suddenly lit his eyes at the thought of how sharp he'd look.

[AdventWings]

((I'm assuming you're done with this thread and I will complete this transaction. If you still need to add more, PM me and I will reopen the thread.))

"Heheh, nice doing business with you, son."

Collins eyed the young man as he left before moving to close the drawers and closets.

It would be another slow day for the lonely tailor, but at least one kid made his day.

((Transaction Completed.

Lucien loses 200 GP of Bazaar Credit and receives his list of clothing as detailed in Post #6. He also receives 100 EXP for good IC interactions.))