maskormenacelogs | [ closed ] when it's just hard to make it through another day

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[ closed ] when it's just hard to make it through another day

WHO: Karen Starr & Annie Leonhart.
WHERE: Victoria's Boutique.
WHEN: August 12th.
WHAT: Who doesn't love lingerie stores? ... Annie. Annie does not. But with the amazing assistance of the one and only Karen Starr, Annie will refuse to use any traceable form of payment and actually upgrade her undergarment department! After getting measured. And questioned by the one and only amazing Karen Starr. "So, about being a titan..." There's no way this could ever go wrong.
WARNINGS: Potential spoilers. Horrors of Victoria's Boutique. And My Bra. (Which is touching when you realize what the artist felt it was a metaphor for, but anyway...)

[ Annie seriously hopes she's not actually spending three hundred dollars today, but Karen had insisted that women's lingerie was expensive, and if Annie was going to insist on paying in cash, she'd need to come prepared.

Shit, this alone is why shopping isn't worth it. Not that personal tailors are more affordable... or even desired. She has her meeting with Kanaya in about a week, and she's dreading what correcting you fashion oversights might include.

As it is, she keeps an eye out for Karen while resolutely crossing her arms over her chest, not thinking about how much she probably had to learn about lingerie in this day and age, too! It should all just function like back home... If the sizes didn't end up being inconsistent as hell. Modern convenience her ass. ]

Hello, Karen.

[ Nope still not waving, still standing here in her dark green hoodie with her arms crossed looking resigned as she glances through the feather and pink and fur in the stores windows, this side of the doors. ]

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[ As rudely as Houka Inumuta had put it, he's sadly right about Karen's figure, so finding bras in her size can actually be something of a challenge. She tires of bland designs easily, so she's glad this boutique exists. It doesn't carry a major variety of colours or patterns, but there are enough for her to add to her collection.

She greets Annie with a quick wave as she approaches, two things at the forefront of her mind: one, Annie is apparently packing some kind of power that makes her a potential threat, and two, not to blow any more than one hundred dollars in lingerie. Rent in De Chima does not come cheap. ]

Careful now, your enthusiasm might be contagious.

[ Seriously, what is up with the long face? ]

[ A very real dislike of people being space invasive when it doesn't feel as necessary as it is in the long run in the immediate term. Annie makes herself straighten, dropping her arms down and trying to make her expression less severe. Making Karen feel like she's wasting time with an ingrate isn't something she wants to cultivate, even if Karen had been the one asking to come along.

It takes a few seconds, but Annie schools herself into relaxing. She might even manage to drum up curious once they were inside, but she considers it a win that she looks less like she doesn't want to be here right now. ]

I'm not looking forward to the first part of this.

[ An awkward silence on her part. ]

... Thank you for coming.

[ Nope... Nope, still awkward. Annie brushes her bangs back, tucking them behind her ear. ]

It's awkward the first time, but trust me, they're trained to make you feel comfortable.

[ She steps toward the entrance, extending her arm so she can grab a hold of the handle and gently pull it open. As he does so, a small bell hanging atop the doorway jingles and the cashier who is busy using the steamer on a rack of intimate nightwear and a salesgirl organizing a messy underwear table look up.

The store isn't very big and from the way the tables have been set up, it gives the illusion of being even smaller. There's room for people to pass through toward the end of the room where the stalls are, but two people can't exactly walk side by side in here. ]

Are you only here for bras, by the way?

If there's anything else that looks like something I need, then I'll...

[ Trail off, looking around this store. The illusion of being smaller than it is ends up being effective, making it oddly intimate in a way Annie hadn't expected quite like this. Annie can use other undergarments, will find the boy cut underwear and find it acceptable as an alternate to what she has. Or going commando. #idowhatimust

Still clammed up when it comes to trying not to look like she's glaring at the salegirl. She manages to bypass glaring... instead, she looks confused. (She'd also just spotted the front display of undergarments, which all consisted of triangles and strings. What in the... ]

[ Karen suspects something else is going on. She may be from a different time with different fashions, but she's certain it's highly unusual for anyone to be behaving this strangely in a lingerie store if they aren't a member of the opposite sex. Is she that apprehensive about getting fitted?

Karen's eyes trail to the display with the thongs and g-strings. ]

Are you okay?

[ The salesgirl approaches them with a sweet, enthusiastic smile and asks if they need help if they are in search for something. ]

We're still browsing, thanks.

[ Annie is still trying to figure out how thongs and g-strings count as underwear. She looks up a beat later, giving Karen a confused look. She's not so apprehensive as she's lacking comprehension altogether, but as it's more apparent Karen's paying too much attention to her, Annie reels herself in and forces that outward calm over herself. Relax. None of this matters. It's all easy. Breathe, observe, stop trying to figure out the triangles and strings. ]

Hm? I'm fine.

[ Not looking forward to having her personal space invaded, but that's really one she's managed to avoid up to this point in any capacity like this. ]

Why?

You look like a deer caught in headlights.

[ Is it the lacy lingerie posed everywhere? Maybe she's not interested in wearing something overly sexual. Karen moves toward one of the tables where a small sign marked PROMOTION! Buy two get one free! stands. She thumbs through the different bras, picking out simpler designs. Then she beckons Annie. ]

See anything you like?

[ She doesn't understand the saying, but she does understand the sentiment. Annie gives a small shake of her head, trailing after Karen. Her attention flits from display to display, lingering over underwear that makes more sense to her, personally - almost like very short briefs. Huh. She's tempted that direction, looking to Karen when she's addressed. ]

Is there a point in looking before knowing what size to look for?

[ Not to say she doesn't walk toward Karen, but she doesn't see the point in looking for the one before knowing the other. ]

It doesn't hurt to take a look first, does it? Unless you want to get fitted right away.

[ She picks out a simple black bra from the table, but as soon as she's squeezed the cup she sets it neatly back down with the rest of the bras. Too much padding ― something she doesn't need.

She looks over at Annie, watching her closely. ]

The changing stalls. [ She announces, lifting a hand to point to the back of the room where the small stalls are. ] You ask the salesgirl and she'll let you into one and she'll measure you.

[ No, it probably doesn't, but it also seems like a waste of time. Annie nods her head to Karen, turning her head to put the stalls in her line of sight before picking her way back toward them. The perky salesgirl from earlier greets her with a smile and a polite inquiry, unfazed when Annie pauses to consider her answer before making her low, blunt request. I need help with being fitted goes hand in hand with All right, is this your first time? and the conversation that flows from there. Being ushered into one of the rooms, asked to take off this and that, having the process explained and being walked through by the salesgirl end sup being easier than she dreaded, especially as the salesgirl saved on any awkward pauses or silences on Annie's part by cheerfully speaking right on through them.

It's still odd being half naked in front of a strange for the purpose of just this, but the explanations of the process when it came to trying out different fit-bras to determine a proper cup size and the no-nonsense, straight forward way she's been handled helps make it easier. It takes over fifteen minutes, leading to a few not-quite right fits, and a collection of bras in the final size back for fitting and discussion of what different cuts and styles did for support (Annie had no idea at the names, or what they meant, and still only half understood by the end of the explanations), Annie ultimately joins Karen once more.

This is officially making breasts a more complicated subject than they've ever been before, and she's not sure how the hell anyone really does this. ]

They're saying they can order something in the right size? My band size is smaller, so then my cup size is... different because of that. Does any of this make sense to you? Going up a band size and you go down a cup size, going down a band size and going up a cup size for volume?

[ While Annie is getting fitted, Karen does her best not to eavesdrop on the two in the case the young girl's discomfort is far greater than she anticipated. Instead, she preoccupies herself with the merchandise, checking out the cotton pajamas hanging by a rack against the wall. They come in summery colours, of course, all in light shades of green, yellow, blue, or pink. Each one has a matching pants or short to go with it and they have different animals depicted around the center. She picks out the light blue top and pants that has a silly bear printed on it.

By the time Annie reemerges from the changing stalls, Karen's got pajamas and two bras ― one magnetic and the other a simple, dark blue ― in her hands. ]

The cup size needs to be able to support your chest properly, but the band size is what's doing most of the work. If you get a band that's too small, it's going to ride up your back and dig into your skin. It's not comfortable.

They don't make band sizes in twenty-six, so I'm going to be using a twenty-eight anyway.

[ When being small is... really about not being bulky. She looks more disgruntled than anything else. ]

You found what you were looking for?

[ She indicates what Karen has in hand, crossing an arm over her chest and rubbing her upper arm as she recenters from one activity into another. Blah. Shopping just feels like such a waste of time and energy when it's for things she doesn't need so much as food or knowledge. Then again, she does suppose she needs what this place is offering - she's just been in a mood overall, and that's annoying to realize. ]

[ Karen turns out the pajama top to show Annie how it looks, then she jabs her thumb in the rack's general direction. It's already a quarter empty and most of the S and XS sizes can't be found hanging along the rack anymore. In fact, if Annie took a closer look around the store she will find anything that constitutes a small isn't available on the tables or walls at the moment. Luckily for Karen, she's never had that issue that a lot of women have when browsing any kind of retail store. ]

A couple of things. I could always use actual pajamas to sleep in.

[ Instead of coming home and flopping into her bed with her clothes on. That's not very cleanly of her. ]

You don't see anything else you like?

Shorts and a shirt are the easiest things to sleep in...

[ Said as she glances at the rack that Karen's thumbing at. Annie wouldn't even mind that things actually her size, top-wise, would be gone. She goes for loose over anything else. Then again, she has like, two shirts she uses for sleeping in. More than fine enough.

She does indicate toward where the underwear that had caught her eye earlier is, on the other hand. ]

I don't know, but maybe...

[ Maybe, if it's not inconvenient, and she can stand being in here for a while longer. Annie does wander off toward the boy-cut briefs style underwear, remembering the suggestion from the salesgirl for these things as well. She picks out a few pairs after inspecting sizes, in various odd prints and colors.

It's pretty obvious she's not looking at the colors until she lays out around seven pieces, looking them over with a calculating glint in her eye. Now, she has this thing called choice, and there's something to choose between. She kind of likes the polka dots... and are those tiny little deer. She peers closer. They are. ]

[ Karen follows with a small smile creeping into her face, amused at how Annie reacts to everything in the store. There's something about shopping with first time shoppers that makes it all the more interesting.

She joins her at the table, hanging the pajamas and bras over one arm while she sorts through the various underwear on the table. She picks out similar designs, going with any attractive colour that catches her eye. One she picks out has poodles on it. Poodles with little bow ties in their fur and a matching bow tie attached to the waist. ]

It's good to have extra to change into.

It makes laundering easier. Once I figure out the machines...

[ She ends up trailing off, noticing a series of colors in the same cut that catch her eye. By and large, Annie prefers wearing muted things that fade into the background, but there's something enticing about such bright colors, with such vivid depth to them. They'd be more expensive than anything she wanted to own back home, but here, the cost is all the same. Moreover... underwear isn't eyecatching. No one sees what she'd have on, except in changing for physical education, and that's such a non-issue that as she plucks at some of the colors - a deep green, a vibrant red, a sky blue - she looks a little wistful... and considering. ]

They're not too expensive...

[ For some kind of human-devouring monster that's apparently murdered a third of the human population back home, Annie is starting to behave more like your typical teenage girl in the store than Karen has seen so far. She says nothing at first, letting Annie rummage around the tables and racks in quiet rumination while she observes from nearby.

She has read the confession post half a dozen times. Despite her ability to speed-read, she had taken her time and gone over every single public conversation to ensure she had not missed anything vital. Karen needs to understand what exactly Annie and her friends and why they did it, something which they did not clarify, though judging from some of the conversations, she's partially inclined to believe those kids are scared to reveal the fact. It sounds, to a point at least, they were coerced to do the things they did.

She feels pity for the girl before her. That's all she is in this moment to Karen ― not a monster, but a teenage girl. ]

You can always go with your favorite color.

[ Closer to a fourth... but Reiner's math was inexact. Even their explanations were inexact, coming from people who didn't share a unified purpose back home, and were unifying here for survival and a sense of sanity. Safety is a myth; how long any of them will be here is beyond being predicted.

She hums, a way of acknowledging she hears Karen without staying too quiet, making it seem like she's ignoring the older woman. Her answer comes out distracted, but honest: ]

I wouldn't be sure what that is.

[ Favorites of anything have had such little relevance in her life. Predictable colors, ones that work to her advantage, muted tones, and in ways, things she likes in the limited range she allows herself. Which here, might be in creams, or a more muted version of that green, but who has to know? She's hardly aware that the selection she's making is mimicking the colors of the skies she knows, red and pinks and golden hues of sunset; that salmon that steals across the sky, too; the blue like a warm morning in spring, where the clouds are wisps that barely touch the expanse of the sky overhead. It's too ludicrous a thought to make itself known in her head, but that's color, some of the most vivid ones she remembers in her life before here. Some of the most vivid colors she last remembers seeing, period.

Mikasa, silhouetted by the brilliant colors of the sunset painting the undersides of the clouds so far out of reach. A memory of her father; understanding that word and it's implications. "Annie, fall." Surrender. And she had... but she hadn't forgotten her father, either, nor her promise to come home. ]

I haven't bothered thinking about things like that before. Most colors are nice, when they're not loud. Some are harder to keep clean.

[ She sees no reason to rush Annie or make the choices for her, so she continues to scope out the other tables for herself. By the wall nearest them hangs various, fuzzy slippers of pastel pink and purples. Some have animals designs, such as feline whiskers or a mouse's nose sewed along the toe, and others have frilly bow ties attached instead. How retro.

She picks up a pink pair of slippers with the cat whiskers, feeling the inside to determine comfort. ]

There's got to be a colour you do like or wear often back home.

Or you can get different colours and see which one goes better with you.

[ She thinks the red and sky blue would flatter Annie best. ]

What's the fashion like back home?

I'm not someone who would know what the fashion was like... I didn't follow those kinds of things. It's all simpler than here. Bright colors like these are expensive, but so is black. The dyes fade over time.

[ She says, like it's explanation enough. Annie is aware of fashion in the sense that she can spot what's closer to the nobility and richer mercantile families' tendencies to wear. Those events where they do... it's just different. If she had more time, had managed to get further into the heart of the human empire, Annie would have learned more. She observes enough to have picked up on those trends if she'd been exposed. Stohess was simply on the fringes, so while the more complicated fashions and brighter colors could be found, it still wasn't like life inside Wall Sina, not quite. ]

I wore whites most often. Whites and cream.

[ Because uniforms are a thing, and spending most her time in uniform meant whites and browns and her own voluntary cream. ]

Greens and browns and greys when off duty. It never really mattered.

[ They were the most common colors, and the least remarkable. Annie didn't stand out in a crowd.

Nor does she see the point in what "looks best" with her - she ends up picking up the blue, red, black, and the strange looking reindeer. They're sort of on a cream... mostly, she thinks the deer look odd. It's novel. The rest she carefully puts back where she'd pulled them out from. ]

I should be finished.

[ So she was mainly in uniform back home. Well, that makes a lot more sense to Karen. She takes the slippers with her, re-approaching Annie. ]

You'll learn. Once you start experimenting with colors and different kinds of clothing you'll figure out what you like to wear best.

[ She looks down at the items in her own arms and then lifts her head, nodding toward the cash register where the cashier works quietly and almost in boredom. ]

I'm going to go ahead and pay for my stuff. If you want to keep looking around, go for it.

[ She should stop picking up items from the tables and walls otherwise she'll be going beyond the budget she set for herself. With a business in the making, every penny of hers counts and besides, she has a business partner who is depending on her just as she is on him financially. ]

[ She has a feeling she'll stick with what's comfortable, branching out into whatever becomes necessary to follow expected standards. A uniform is a uniform, no matter how different in appearance from the ones she knew back home, or the ones she's learned to recognize here. Regardless, it's nothing that needs to be said out loud, and so she falls into silence, merely watching Karen move by and falling in line behind her.

The salesgirl notices them moving to the register, flashing a bright smile and moving to meet them there. She ducks down, riffling through catalogues there to pull out one, set it on the countertop, and pull out another. She takes the first one and places it back underneath the counter, standing and flipping through until she reaches whatever she's looking for. These are the styles I was telling you about, she says to Annie, gesturing to her smaller portion of the counter for Annie to set her things on.

The girl working the register gives them a oblique look of curiosity, focusing her attention - and a small smile - on Karen as she asks if there's anything else she's looking for today.

Annie's conversation with the salesgirl is brief. Something for sports, yes, yes, if you say, that would be fine, no, not that one. Black for that, yes, that's fine, of course. My address? Ah, that is... Only these, for now. Thank you.

The orders are placed, set to deliver to the townhouse in Nonah, and Annie looks a little more tense and wound up again. She keeps it off her face, keeping her voice calm and steady, but there's a stiffness in how she holds herself that say she's done with this.

Getting through it, finished, and then relieved; once she's been handed her receipt, her shoulders relax a fraction. Karen hadn't been wrong. The women here haven't been aggressive in sales, and it's more relaxing that way, less of an imposition on her mental space.

The bag's a bit much, with the tissue paper and the rest packed into it, but it's not unusual. It's almost pretty, when she looks at it, glad this whole endeavor is coming to an end, as far as she knows. ]

They were polite.

[ She says, on exiting the shop. It's her first, indirect thank you. ]

[ The tissue paper crinkles inside the bag as it swings lightly with her every step. She adjusts her grip on the thin, rope handle as they step out of the shop, then focuses on her other bag that's slipped down to her elbow, pushing it back up to her shoulder.

Annie's commentary surprises her. It's as if the concept of common decency is foreign to her. As Karen thinks on it, maybe, just maybe, she should not be too taken back by this fact; Annie's world may be a harsher one than she knows. If they are fighting for survival against these titans ― something Annie and her two friends happen to be, which gives her reason to suspect their upbringing or recent lives have been filled with nothing but fear and skepticism. Perhaps in Annie's world kindness, even in a shop, is not entirely expected or prevails. ]

They have to be on the job, otherwise they lose commission and probably get an earful from their manager.

You good?

[ It's all taken from an angle that sees what happens for people who aren't in places that can afford the niceties; Annie's exposure to cities has always been in relation to her status as a refugee or as a soldier in training. The closest city near the district she'd trained in out East hadn't provided her with more than a groundwork to watch and observe; the military provided most basic necessities, and by the time she needed more of those, she was already enlisted.

C'est la vie.

She inclines her head toward Karen, glad that this (small) hurdle has been jumped. ]

Yes, thank you. Still seems... nicer than some places I've been in.

[ She's run into all kinds of stores with all kinds of management styles. They're not always beneficial to a reluctant shopper. ]

There's a different kind of affluence around here compared to anything back home.

[ Here they go.

Karen's been waiting for this window of opportunity. She isn't afraid to boldly demand answers out of someone, but she has her doubts a tactic like cornering a young girl who's let more than a cat out of the bag is going to work. She's convinced doing so would only get Annie to close herself off.

She tilts her head to express her undivided attention has fallen onto Annie. ]

How much of a difference are we talking?

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