Hello, everyone! after dealing with real life and the other nonsense of living, panny and i have decided to bring back war of change. give a round of applause. we’ve worked through all of the information and hopefully improved coherency and cohesion; however, tell us if we missed something. eventually, we’ll announce an event to celebrate the re-opening, so look out for information on that. -RAIDNE, THE HEAD ADMIN
From the moonless night, screams of terror and fear resound, spreading across the world and infecting the masses; however, those sleepless nights occurred years ago. A new era began with the fires of war, and with no end in sight, the residents of Selene Isle trudge through life, basking in the momentary peace. Despite their prayers for continued monotony and peace, a storm brews, stirred to life by the continued presence of Rapture and Wraith. And as we set our sights on the seemingly peace laden isle, we must ask: how shall this tale end?
As the years passed, the number of true pairs increased; however, they continued to live in the shadows, catering to the whims of the mundane. Seven Moons kept watch over them all, instructing them and assisting them, but for many, the attitudes and ideals of the organization were smoldering, suffocating. With Seven Moons and the mundanes, they could not grasp the freedom, the power dangling before their eyes. In the beginning, rebellion was a dream, a fantasy, a figment—developed by the repressed and carried forward due to the nature of humanity. No one expected the call to sound, and no one expected the call to be answered. However, it happened.
Business had been pretty good today with rushes of crowds and selling out of one of the top brands they had just put into the store, Zakuro should have been rather excited at how well business was going but well she could have cared less about the whole thing. It wasn’t a job she wanted nor did she want the responsibility that went with it, she wasn’t old enough for a job or the stress that came with a business. It was bad enough that she was throwing all of this onto her manager, the poor soul had to deal with her just dropping all the work on them as though it was no big deal. Though she had clearly made it worth their while as day after day the store seemed to flourish and the account her father had hired to make sure nothing went wrong said the numbers he got were astounding for a girl her age to be making. Clearly this guy was just as fooled as the rest of them, but that was ok with her what no one else knew made her look even more impressive. She knew the words were a lie but still it wasn’t like anyone was going to check out her credibility and if they did no one was going to say anything other than how great of a job she was doing, hell half the time no one believed that she worked here anyways!
As it stood now she sat behind the counter as the rush died down, they needed more employee’s so that this kind of thing didn’t happen anymore. Why exactly was she here again...oh yeah her manager needed a break for lunch and Zakuro happened to be the only one high enough to watch the store while they were gone. Oh what joy it was to have that kind of power! No not really it was more like a pain in the ass for her, now here she sat bored off her butt watching the time as it turned very so slowly to the next numeral. With the stock of their new item having run out the place had gone from pretty active and busy to slowly dying before her eyes, which in a sense had been a good sign for Zakuro. At least she wasn’t going to have to work too hard while she was giving breaks, yes that was a great thought to keep her going for a while longer. Lazy was a sort of worship for Zakuro in the years she had moved to Selene she had quickly lost all notion for anything active, this island had become more of a prison then a new place to live.
But as her thoughts slowly began to turn towards the darkness the chime of the door rang once more signaling that a customer had entered. From her slumped over position on the counter she sighed “ welcome to fire and ice please have a look around” she turned her head to somewhat greet the new customer only to have her eyes blinded with pure mess, wow someone had actually worn that out in public?
[newclass=.tell]background-color:#2a6e6b;width:400px;height:400px;padding:20px;font-family:tahoma;font-size:7.5pt;color:#000000;text-align:justify;overflow:auto;margin-top: -390px; -webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;opacity:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=.tell:hover]opacity:10;-webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;[/newclass]
Aleksandr wasn’t, and never had been, one for extravagance; he saw zero need for expensive gourmet food or designer clothes, frowned at people spending hundreds of dollars for a pair of shoes or dresses without any care in the world when he knew how many days worth of food such money could buy. Today, however—today was an exception. His mother would celebrate her birthday next week—birthdays in the Maier household had never been a grandiose celebration, but even when they had been living paycheck to paycheck his mother made sure to give him a small present for his birthday, and now that Aleksandr had a regular income he would make sure he returned the favor. He debated himself on what to give for his mother for a while before deciding on a dress, a nice one she could wear to formal occasions.
That was how Aleksandr found himself standing in front of Fire and Ice, eyeing the mannequins dressed in bright colors and styles of what he presumed to be the latest trend—not that Aleksandr would know anything about the latest trend or, to be completely honest, any trend at all, though. He did know, however, that Fire and Ice was a pretty popular boutique; he passed by the store on his way to work and back home on an almost daily basis, after all, and it was almost always crowded with customers. The store looked pretty empty at this time of the day, however, most probably because it was still lunch break. It was probably a good thing, for him at least; Aleksandr knew he looked out of place, out of his element, and if it wasn’t for his mother he probably wouldn’t be here. He saw no point in buying expensive clothing for himself; being five-foot-five and scrawny, it’s not like he could pull them off even if he wanted to anyway. He was content with wearing anything as long as they were comfortable, and his current attire—a rather oversized soft pink sweater with bright green polkadots on top of a plain white shirt and a pair of light brown capris—was as comfortable as it could get.
He pushed the front door of the store open; a bell chimed, signalling his entrance, and was welcomed by a rather unenthusiastic “Welcome to Fire and Ice please have a look around,” from a girl slumped over the counter. He made his way to the employee, glad to see that there weren't that many people around. "Excuse me," he began, smiling rather nervously, "I'm looking for a birthday gift for my mother—a dress, maybe. Can you help me with that?"
Zakuro was pretty sure she had died and be sent deep within the depths of hell, seriously there was no way in hell this boy had walked into a clothing store of such caliber looking like he was. She was pretty sure he was wearing pink which wasn’t all that un-expectable since boys now a days wore pink in some show of how the colors were not gender based. Even though clearly pink had been dominated by girls long before the dawn of time, it would have been alright expect for the fact that he looked like he had come in wearing his pajama’s or perhaps had stolen some child’s pajamas as the material looked soft and delicate for baby skin. It was only made worse by the fact that the whole attire had ugly yellow polka dots which covered him from head to toe, she was pretty sure her eyeballs were going to fall out of her head if she stared at him any longer. He walked over to the counter and had asked about getting his mother a dress for her birthday, it was a nice gesture and Zakuro could have gladly helped him find something amazing that his mother would have loved. However she was still so dazed by his horrid appearance that she couldn’t find the words to tell him she could actually complete his request.
“Did you skin one of the pink elephants that happen to float around Dumbo’s head when he gets completely wasted? Because honestly that is the only way I can describe how someone would have found themselves obtaining this outfit. “
It was harsh and blunt and completely part of Zakuro and her crazy fashion sense, sure sometimes her style needed a bit of a work up and she looked like a ditz when trying new things. Never in her life however had she walked out of the house looking like what someone might see in a bad mushroom trip. Pulling herself from around the counter Zakuro got a better look at him before heading off to the men’s section of the store, there was no way she was going to be able to focus on helping him while he looked so utterly ridiculous in that outfit. Coming back with a sensible and stylish outfit she pulled the man to the changing rooms and with a quick shove pushed him forward towards the door “ should be your size, from the looks of it though I’m so blinded by those dots I may be wrong, try this all on and come back out and let me have a look. Then we can possibly talk about a birthday gift for your mother, you never mentioned her size so I have no idea where to start looking. “ harsh? Yeah there was no way Zakuro was giving this one a chance to back out of changing or going to another store to buy anything clothing related, he was a walking mess and she was on a war path to change him.
[newclass=.tell]background-color:#2a6e6b;width:400px;height:400px;padding:20px;font-family:tahoma;font-size:7.5pt;color:#000000;text-align:justify;overflow:auto;margin-top: -390px; -webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;opacity:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=.tell:hover]opacity:10;-webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;[/newclass]
Instead of answering his inquiry, the employee replied with a rapid-fire, harsh comment that took Aleksandr a few seconds to process, making him frown at the mere bluntness of the comment and the analogy she just used. Pink elephants floating around Dumbo’s head? He knew that his outfit weren't exactly stylish, but he wasn't exactly dressed for the red carpet or some supermodel audition so was that comment really necessary? It's not like he could afford the expensive outfits showcased on the boutique's cheerful display and that was fine by him; looking stylish was the last thing on his mind and even if he could afford to buy expensive designer clothes he'd rather spend the money for something else.
Who was this girl, anyway? Now that Aleksandr saw her more closely, she definitely looked too young to be working in such an establishment, and it didn’t help that she dressed in a very frilly, ruffled pink dress complete with ribbons and a matching pair of equally frilly hairband which, although definitely suited her, didn’t exactly help in making her look old enough to be working in this place. Aleksandr watched, half-dazed, as the girl pulled herself from her slumped position over the counter and, after giving him a once-over, went straight to the men’s section like a small whirlwind of pink frills and silver hair and pulled an outfit from the section's many selections enthusiastically.
"Um—I think you've misheard me, I'm not looking for an outfit for me so, um, is this really necessary?" He said as the girl, with several articles of clothing in her arms, pulled him to the nearest dressing room. For a girl who looked like a 9th grade student and who was more than a head shorter than Aleksandr, she sure was strong, with a determination that wasn't there when she first welcomed him to the establishment. Aleksandr found himself shoved into the dressing room with a strict order to try those outfit on and to let the girl have a look at him after he finished changing. At this point Aleksandr was pretty sure he was being pranked; there was no way this girl was an employee, and even if she was one, Aleksandr was sure that forcing customers to dress up wasn't included in any boutique's standard operating procedure.
He inspected the outfit shoved into his arms and, although he had to admit that it did look rather stylish and comfortable to boot, the price tag alone made the outfit downright unaffordable. He wasn't here to buy new outfits for himself, anyway. "I'm sorry, but I really don't think I can afford these outfits and I don't need them anyway, but I do need to find a dress for my mother so is there any employee I can talk to, Miss—?" He asked, peeking out of the dressing room.
Zakuro wasn’t listening to the boy had he tried to protest her actions, clearly he had no sense of style and the whole issue of money well that was a foreign concept to her. She had always been well endowed with money it didn’t matter who it was because her whole family was rich. In the start when her father had first started working for her grandfather Zakuro had been spoiled by the old man. She was after all his only granddaughter and that seemed to spark a fire in the man to spoil the hell out of her. It slightly ticked her father off which only made the old man want to do it more and more, she had only realized later that his affections were only to show off in front of her father. Yes those were the types of people Zakuro had been exposed to all her life, still however poor people were just something she had never had to deal with. It wasn’t like she hated them or anything but when the words to expensive fell from their lips the meaning of the word was almost foreign to Zakuro, how could something cost too much?
“ I didn’t mishear you” she shot back at him rather quickly, she had after all told him she had no idea what size his mother was and therefore could not begin to find her anything because of it. Honestly he was too worried about the fact that she had kidnapped him and made him strip then the fact that his goal was never going to be accomplished if he didn’t listen to her. Oh why did boys have to be so complicated? Honestly was it that hard to go put on a few pairs of slacks and come out and go cloths shopping? It wasn’t like she was telling him to rob her store or anything like that! With her hip cocked to the side and her arms folded in front of her chest she tsked at him “Miss Tamayori if you must, however the affordability is not what is question here …whatever your name is, the fact of the matter is that I told you I don’t know what size your mother is therefore I have to stand here listening to you whine instead of picking her out something cute while you change. However i will ignore the employee comment since I own the place, I only happen to be doing cashier work because my manager is out on break and were low on man power ok!” her hand flew out to point a finger at him as her patients with this creature was slowly fading away “now tell me what size your mother is before I beat it out of you!” well this sale was going rather well wasn’t it?
[newclass=.tell]background-color:#2a6e6b;width:400px;height:400px;padding:20px;font-family:tahoma;font-size:7.5pt;color:#000000;text-align:justify;overflow:auto;margin-top: -390px; -webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;opacity:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=.tell:hover]opacity:10;-webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;[/newclass]
It was an awkward situation for Aleksandr to be in, standing there in the middle of an upscale establishment with a bunch of clothes in his arms and an unamused young girl in front of him with her arms folded. A young girl who, much to his surprise, also turned out to be the owner of said establishment, in spite of her looks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—it's just that you look very young to be owning such fine establishment, Miss Tamayori,” he finally said, finishing his sentence with a small awkward smile. The young girl’s patience looked like it was wearing thin, judging from her tone and the way she pointed her fingers at him, although the blond honestly had no idea what he had done to garner such reaction from the petite girl. It was her, afterall, who shoved a bunch of clothing articles into his arms and practically dragged him to the shop’s dressing room to try them on all of sudden, and she insulted his outfit which, granted, was probably a valid concern, but still. Aleksandr understood, on some level, her comment on affordability not being an issue, which for her was most likely true. She did own the place, after all, which in all likelihood meant she was well-off; money was probably never an issue for her, but it was for Aleksandr. There was a reason why he kept a meticulously detailed account book, why he saved every penny he could save almost to the point of compulsion; he was lucky to find a side job he could do after his classes ended, but even when money was no longer as tight as it used to be old habits were not that easy to forget.
But back to the situation at hand—his mother’s dress size? Aside from some very general and probably not-so-trustworthy idea on how women’s clothing size work he gathered from his female classmates back in high school and their loud discussions on some teenage magazine’s latest gossip and trend columns, Aleksandr was at loss. “Um, I don’t know her exact size but she’s around two or three inches shorter than me and a little thinner as well, if that helps?”
Great, he probably annoyed here even more.
“Do you still want me to try these on? I don’t think I can afford them but I won’t mind trying them on if you want me to,” the blond said in an effort to make up for whatever he had done to make her lose her patience. Aleksandr highly doubted that she would actually beat him, since harming your customer wasn’t exactly good for business, but he hated confrontation, would do anything in his power to make sure that he stayed on people’s good side, and trying a few outfits to appease this young girl, whom he apparently had annoyed, wouldn’t hurt. “My name is Aleksandr, by the way. It’s nice meeting you, Miss Tamamori.”
OOC: gaaah i'm sorry this reply sucks orz feel free to torment sasha or to force him to dress up or anything, though; it's not like he can refuse X'D
Zakuro sat a little dumbfounded as she listened to the boy apologies to her for not knowing she owned the place when just seconds ago the poor thing could hardly believe that she even worked here. So it was ok if she owned the place but not if she was a worker? And how in the world did he know for sure she wasn’t lying? Clearly this kid was a little messed up in the head maybe this whole dress scheme was just so he could buy himself a pretty little dress to wear at home while he pretended to be his own girlfriend! Zakuro stopped all thought process after that, just imagining something so terrifying sent shivers down her spine. No there was no way in hell she was going to comment on any of it else she would spend the rest of the day thinking about the strange kid who came in to buy himself a dress and like with the scary things Azrael used to say to her she honestly didn’t want nightmares for days. “ so your more apt to believe I own this place then the fact that I work here, seriously I have to question your brain power but I think the answer might actually shock me”
She really didn’t want to know the answer to her question but saying it out loud had helped to calm the nerves with in her brain. However it didn’t help that his mother’s size was a bit shorter and smaller than his own frame leading Zakuro to picture him in whatever she picked out for his so called mother. With a shiver down her spine the girl could only cross her arms and shake her head before giving up on saving the poor soul “ Aleksandr was it? Darling I am going to tell you this once again because clearly that outfit is making it hard for you to hear. So what I am going to have you do is put on those clothing, without talking about how you can’t afford them while I go look for something that will fit your mother in the mean time you can stand right there after your finished and we will continue on from there ok? why were poor people so whiny about things? She was offering him cloths to put on and still he had to gripe about it, seriously she was trying to be nice to him and he was just complaining about it!
on the other hand though she still had a dress to find for this so called mother and with little information other than she was a bit smaller then her son who clearly was making her up since he knew nothing about what his mother liked or would wear Zakuro now had to base everything solely on what some poor housewife of a thing would wear. She couldn’t compare his mother two hers as well her mother was pretty much a nonexistent thing in her life. She pushed the though away however and began to dig through the racks of clothing set out for older women, regardless of what she picked her brain could only think that the boy in her dressing room was going to be the one prancing around in it.
[newclass=.tell]background-color:#2a6e6b;width:400px;height:400px;padding:20px;font-family:tahoma;font-size:7.5pt;color:#000000;text-align:justify;overflow:auto;margin-top: -390px; -webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;opacity:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=.tell:hover]opacity:10;-webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;[/newclass]
“Well, it’s just—nevermind, I’ll just go change, then, and thank you for helping me finding a gift for my mother,” another nervous, polite smile before he went into the dressing room. The girl threw him off-balance; getting clothes shoved at him and being rather energetically asked to dress up because his current outfit looked like, in her words, it was skinned from “one of the pink elephants that happen to float around Dumbo’s head when he gets completely wasted” wasn’t exactly what he expected when he set his foot into Fire and Ice, after all. Besides, it wasn’t the time and place to launch into an explanation over how the girl actually owning the place (discretionary beneficiary, most likely, the ownership being given to her by her legal guardians as a birthday present or whatever moneyed people were doing these days) was more plausible than her working on this place (minimum age requirement; also he didn’t think an employee would bluntly criticize a customer and force him to change, regardless of what the employee thought of said customer’s clothes).
The dressing room was as fancy as a dressing room could get, he supposed, plastered with colorful wallpapers that complemented the boutique’s overall bright, youthful theme nicely. Aleksandr sighed as he put the clothes off their hangers, inspecting each piece of the outfit. It was, all thing considered, a rather understated outfit: a dark-colored pair of pants, a t-shirt, and a greyish-green. Putting them on, he could see that he looked—well, he looked different, to say the least. The outfit definitely felt far fancier than any outfit he actually owned, and a lot tighter too. Which, he supposed, was probably the latest street trend these days, judging by how pretty much everyone around his age range was walking around wearing essentially the same thing. It was a stark contrast to his usual baggy clothes but it was okay, he guessed—more than okay, even, as long as he ignored the outfit’s price tag and the futility of trying them on since he wouldn’t, couldn’t actually buy them even if they suited him. He thought he looked fine, but he did also think that he looked okay dressed in what this Tamamori girl thought of to be the clothing embodiment of abomination, so he probably wasn’t the best judge for this. He should ask the Tamamori girl for her opinion, seeing that she was the one responsible for forcing him to dress up and she did say that she owned the place, afterall; Aleksandr just assumed owners of boutiques and other similar establishments were blessed with better fashion sense than the rest of the population, along with designers and other people who worked in the fashion industry. Probably.
She did, however, come across as someone who was strongly opinionated, maybe a little too strong for his liking, but she didn’t look like someone with a malicious intent, unless loudly criticizing someone’s outfit and forcing them to dress up counted as one. Maybe it was the dress, as pink and frilly as it was, softening her words and actions into blunt force that was more surprising than hurtful, or maybe it was the way she looked so at ease at this; either way, Aleksandr had no reason to believe that she was lying or trying to humiliate him.
“Umm—how do I look?” He mumbled the question as he opened the door of the dressing room, his shoulders stiff as he waited for her comment.
“Thank you thank you now get in that dressing room!” she waved him on as he continued to talk to her instead of getting naked. Zakuro was going to have her work cut out for her as it was with no direct notion of what his mother would want or what size she actually wore. To the best of her knowledge almost everyone had a mother, so he wasn’t exactly lying about that, however comparing his mother to his own frame only gave Zakuro the fear that perhaps this young guy was maybe a cross dresser which she wasn’t against in any sort of means. Zakuro just would have had him not lie to her about the whole ordeal instead of claiming it to be for his mother. Though there was always the possibility that he wasn’t lying and in fact the dress would go to his mother in the end, to which Zakuro dearly hoped for. Though she wondered if the boy couldn’t afford clothing for his own body how in the world did he expect to save for the clothing he wanted to get his mother. She supposed she was going to have to hit the clearance rack of the stuff from last year and last season and hope she found something within his budget to get a sale.
She had been in the middle of trying to find something that was his size or smaller for his mother when the boy had suddenly spoken up from over by the fitting rooms. She was going to eat him alive if he had only put on half the outfit but was surprised to find the boy had actually done as she had instructed him to. Well she had to give it to him if he tried to pull off something sharp he could do it in a heartbeat and he looked cute to, honestly why couldn’t guys just try to have a little fashion sense here and there? She was going to give him those cloths anyways because well she just didn’t want him walking out of her store looking like such a hot mess, she was trying to run a business not scare people away. She didn’t want people assuming she told the kinds of cloths that boy had come in wearing, she would lose all her clients then! “ see what happens when you put on some normal clothing you turn out to actually be a little cutie!” she giggled at him before bringing over a few selections of dresses for him to look at.
[newclass=.tell]background-color:#2a6e6b;width:400px;height:400px;padding:20px;font-family:tahoma;font-size:7.5pt;color:#000000;text-align:justify;overflow:auto;margin-top: -390px; -webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;opacity:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=.tell:hover]opacity:10;-webkit-transition: all .1s linear;-moz-transition: all .1s linear;-ms-transition: all .1s linear;-o-transition: all .1s linear;transition: all .1s linear;[/newclass]
