Post by Machi Kawamura on Nov 17, 2019 21:57:58 GMT -4
Receding sunlight fell upon a Tokyo shopping facility. Walls of concrete and shaved stone made themselves apparent, just as the air conditioners worked as hard as the employees. Seagulls, flocking from beaches afar to siphon from the cityfolk, loitered for their chance at material goods. Stores, back to back, displayed colorful wares and advertisements. The occasional rose bush shivered in the medians, where all kinds of people could congregate.
Some eyes wandered through a confectioner's door, into tiles paved black and white. The wallpaper carried all manner of bright magenta and blue and green, just as the confections themselves were. An old disco ball, ever still in these trying times, shone upon a number of behind the counter deals. The stocks and equipment were kept clean, though the red-shirt employees kept to their positions. This establishment, for its groovy walls, earned its title of "Vapor Sweets and Snacks."
Perhaps this decor brought a Machi Kawamura to the establishment. Her walking looked more like a long slump across the tile, given the lack of balance. One could hear sneakers squeak against tile, avoiding a mat that could wipe the grime from the bottom. Blue eyes lazily shifted across shelves, but the decision came right to a nearby clerk.
"Is there something we can do for you?" The clerk shifted his body, opening a fairly wide selection of store specials. There was factory produced confections, and then there were
Machi blinked, as if nothing had been said to her before. "Yeeyee."
"Two four pieces, four two pieces, and five three pieces."
"Alright." A pause. The employee reiterated.
Machi also reiterated. "No. Uh, Five four pieces, three two pieces, and four three pieces."
The clerk asked again. Machi spoke again. The cycle continued, and the only thing that changed was the growing annoyance from both parties.
A woman's hand attempted to maneuver to each choice, index finger curling. None of them were consistent. Nevermind the fact that the taller woman's gardening gloves, long, brown, and rough as a moose's hide, smelled of smoke and striking powder. Ignore the face that seemed anywhere from ghostly pale to wholly flushed of color. Even a signature orange bandanna lie lazily tied around her neck.
Whatever the case, something was up with the tall girl.
(OOC: Posting for Angel Surami when they get a chance proper)
Some eyes wandered through a confectioner's door, into tiles paved black and white. The wallpaper carried all manner of bright magenta and blue and green, just as the confections themselves were. An old disco ball, ever still in these trying times, shone upon a number of behind the counter deals. The stocks and equipment were kept clean, though the red-shirt employees kept to their positions. This establishment, for its groovy walls, earned its title of "Vapor Sweets and Snacks."
Perhaps this decor brought a Machi Kawamura to the establishment. Her walking looked more like a long slump across the tile, given the lack of balance. One could hear sneakers squeak against tile, avoiding a mat that could wipe the grime from the bottom. Blue eyes lazily shifted across shelves, but the decision came right to a nearby clerk.
"Is there something we can do for you?" The clerk shifted his body, opening a fairly wide selection of store specials. There was factory produced confections, and then there were
Machi blinked, as if nothing had been said to her before. "Yeeyee."
"Two four pieces, four two pieces, and five three pieces."
"Alright." A pause. The employee reiterated.
Machi also reiterated. "No. Uh, Five four pieces, three two pieces, and four three pieces."
The clerk asked again. Machi spoke again. The cycle continued, and the only thing that changed was the growing annoyance from both parties.
A woman's hand attempted to maneuver to each choice, index finger curling. None of them were consistent. Nevermind the fact that the taller woman's gardening gloves, long, brown, and rough as a moose's hide, smelled of smoke and striking powder. Ignore the face that seemed anywhere from ghostly pale to wholly flushed of color. Even a signature orange bandanna lie lazily tied around her neck.
Whatever the case, something was up with the tall girl.
(OOC: Posting for Angel Surami when they get a chance proper)
