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maskormenacelogs2019-04-06 06:20 am
devilishly_handsome) wrote in maskormenacelogs2019-04-06 06:20 am
Entry tags:
Open
WHO: Anton Roudin
WHERE: De Chima
WHEN: Shortly after he's ported in
WHAT: Getting used to his new environment
WARNINGS: N/A
De Chima #004 (Open to housemates)
This is apparently where he lives now. Of course, he doesn't want to just walk right in. That's how you get killed. Even if it wasn't for his devilish good looks, people weren't too fond of burglars, and he wasn't sure if they'd have been informed that he was coming to live here. So he goes up to the door, knocks, and waits. He certainly hopes someone is home. He'd hate to just stand out here waiting. For that matter, he hopes he doesn't introduce himself to some people here, only to have someone come home when they're not expecting to see him.
He hopes everyone is okay with him in this house. It would be terribly awkward if they weren't, considering the whole 'living together' thing. The only time he's ever lived with someone he didn't choose, it was with family, and they were always okay because...well family.
As thoughts race through his head, Anton waits on the porch, tail swishing nervously as he imagines all the ways this could go horribly wrong.
De Chima (Anywhere, open to all)
Anton steps out to look around at this strange new world. He's already feeling overwhelmed. Strange metal carriages race along hard pathways with terrifying speed. Signs grow with a strange light. People communicate through small, handheld devices. He tries to keep to the shadows, though stealth is hard since he's still wearing the armor he came in wearing. He's unwilling to take it off, even if someone did convince him it was likely better that he did not have any of his weapons here. The idea of going out without even basic arms seems unnerving to him.
And then he is spotted. And then mobbed. By a crowd of excited, bubbly...fans?
Anton freezes, having absolutely no idea what to do. Even the very tip of his tail stopped it's usual rhythmic twitching.
He's always wanted this? He thinks. Maybe? He's always wanted humans to not be afraid or unnerved when meeting him for the first time, when they saw the prominent signs of his devilish heritage. But he'd never imagined...this. He's not sure what this is. He has absolutely no clue how he should react to this, or process it, or...so he just stands there. Frozen. Terribly confused.
De Chima (Shopping, open to all)
One thing's that become clear is that armor is impractical here. He still feels wary going without it in a strange world where he doesn't know what to expect, but it's clear that he isn't going to be attacked on a regular basis, and it feels foolish to carry around all that extra weight as a precaution for something so unlikely to happen. This time, he's gone out in his brown gambeson and pants that he typically wears under the armor and begins to look at the clothing of this culture. He's not sure how he feels about it.
"A lot of this fabric seems really thin and flimsy...wouldn't it just get ripped up?"
Then he looks away from the men's dress shirts, spotting hoodies in the distance. Those looked like more decently sturdy fabric.
"Oh, what's that?"
WHERE: De Chima
WHEN: Shortly after he's ported in
WHAT: Getting used to his new environment
WARNINGS: N/A
De Chima #004 (Open to housemates)
This is apparently where he lives now. Of course, he doesn't want to just walk right in. That's how you get killed. Even if it wasn't for his devilish good looks, people weren't too fond of burglars, and he wasn't sure if they'd have been informed that he was coming to live here. So he goes up to the door, knocks, and waits. He certainly hopes someone is home. He'd hate to just stand out here waiting. For that matter, he hopes he doesn't introduce himself to some people here, only to have someone come home when they're not expecting to see him.
He hopes everyone is okay with him in this house. It would be terribly awkward if they weren't, considering the whole 'living together' thing. The only time he's ever lived with someone he didn't choose, it was with family, and they were always okay because...well family.
As thoughts race through his head, Anton waits on the porch, tail swishing nervously as he imagines all the ways this could go horribly wrong.
De Chima (Anywhere, open to all)
Anton steps out to look around at this strange new world. He's already feeling overwhelmed. Strange metal carriages race along hard pathways with terrifying speed. Signs grow with a strange light. People communicate through small, handheld devices. He tries to keep to the shadows, though stealth is hard since he's still wearing the armor he came in wearing. He's unwilling to take it off, even if someone did convince him it was likely better that he did not have any of his weapons here. The idea of going out without even basic arms seems unnerving to him.
And then he is spotted. And then mobbed. By a crowd of excited, bubbly...fans?
Anton freezes, having absolutely no idea what to do. Even the very tip of his tail stopped it's usual rhythmic twitching.
He's always wanted this? He thinks. Maybe? He's always wanted humans to not be afraid or unnerved when meeting him for the first time, when they saw the prominent signs of his devilish heritage. But he'd never imagined...this. He's not sure what this is. He has absolutely no clue how he should react to this, or process it, or...so he just stands there. Frozen. Terribly confused.
De Chima (Shopping, open to all)
One thing's that become clear is that armor is impractical here. He still feels wary going without it in a strange world where he doesn't know what to expect, but it's clear that he isn't going to be attacked on a regular basis, and it feels foolish to carry around all that extra weight as a precaution for something so unlikely to happen. This time, he's gone out in his brown gambeson and pants that he typically wears under the armor and begins to look at the clothing of this culture. He's not sure how he feels about it.
"A lot of this fabric seems really thin and flimsy...wouldn't it just get ripped up?"
Then he looks away from the men's dress shirts, spotting hoodies in the distance. Those looked like more decently sturdy fabric.
"Oh, what's that?"
no subject
"What do you think of these?"
no subject
"Oh, this one is super fancy! It's like a shirt rich people would wear!"
He seems delighted, which might seem odd for someone who has plate mail, as that would be more expensive than any fancy shirts. They are, of course, all flimsy, but these aren't clothes he'll be sparring in. They're fancy clothes for fancy things.
"I like the ones with buttons better." He points to the t-shirt. "The neck opening on that one is kind of small. It might be hard to get over the horns."
no subject
At the mention of the t-shirt, he nods. Of course! Roland had completely taken them for granted.
"You're right. I'm used to dealing with someone with cat ears. More give."
He puts the t-shirt back and pulls out a few more of the non-tacky satin/shiny button ups he can find.
"How about these?"
no subject
He figures he doesn't need a lot of clothes, but it would be nice to have a few sets in case one gets dirty or damaged. Especially since what he was ported in wearing is more meant for combat, and he'd rather have something that isn't quite so heavy for day to day use.
no subject
"Over here," he says, guiding the other man over to them.
"Let me know if those are too big or too small, and I can get you another size."
no subject
He goes into the room.
"It's amazing how many of the same outfit they made, just to have them in so many sizes."
Of course, he's running off the assumption that people hand stitched each of these. After he few minutes, he comes back out in his original clothes. "These ones fit," he says, holding up one group of shirts. "But these two were tight across the shoulders," he adds, holding up the two he was referring to with his other hand.
no subject
But he'll save the ethics of mass-produced clothing for another time. This is hardly the place to have such a discussion.
When he comes out and motions to the clothes that are too tight, Roland takes them and gets them in the next size up.
"Try these."
no subject
Or they might have a friend or family member who could take the clothes in for them.
He takes the larger shirts, going back in to try them on. Once he's back in his original outfit, he comes back out.
"These fit!" He seems quite pleased. "Now, if I buy some more trousers I'll probably just have to eye them up. I'm pretty sure if I have to cut a hole to try on a pair of pants, they'd expect me to pay for them regardless of whether they fit."
His tail, after all, was certain to get in the way, but that's something he's rather used to. It's not like there were many clothes made for tieflings where he's from, either. Most of the population there was human, or at the very least one of the many other tailless races.
no subject
For better and/or worse. There are a lot of things he misses about Evermore and the way it was run, but he also missed TVs and WiFi and was grateful to have it back.
"Pants might actually be easier to pick out. Measure your waist and inseam first." Roland pulls out a random pair of pants to show Anton the label. "The first number is the waist size, the second is inseam. You might want to allow for a larger waist so your tail is more comfortable, and invest in a good belt."
no subject
Because Anton doesn't really know his measurements by heart, or if they even use the same measurement system here.
no subject
He doesn't have a measuring tape even if he were so inclined.
no subject
"Thanks! I'll go ask them."
no subject