Summary:A chance encounter thanks to a super-hot day and good air conditioning Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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It's another day in the city, and the heat for August is blistering. While Angela doesn't exactly need the air conditioning on full blast, her customers DO. And well, she does need them, so it's a very comfortable 68 degrees inside the display area. Though right now, there's still a distinct lack of customers, since they don't want to be outside to get TO the store, either.
Not everyone has too much of a choice, though. The bell rings to announce the front door opening, and in slips Kiden. She brushes her fingers back through her sweat-damp hair and lets out a small groan as she feels the cool air. The teen closes her eyes and just stands there for a moment, taking it all in. Only then does she open her eyes and actually glance around.
Her bright blue eyes land on a suit of chain and she squints.
"…The hell?"
Angela glances over and grins at Kiden, "Chainmail, actually. Took a while to get the links authentic, too." She waves from behind the counter, then gets a wry look, "Guessing you're the 'getting in out of the heat' type and not actually looking to make a purchase." The woman's brilliant green eyes definitely look amused, but also not judging at all as she then ducks down and cracks open the tiny fridge behind the counter.
"Want some water? It's hotter than Hades out there."
Kiden shrugs her slender shoulders and glances about again. She looks homeless. Her clothes were trendy when she got them, but are worn and faded, from her low-hanging skinny jeans to her battered crop-top and her taped-together skater shoes. She has a battered skateboard under her arm, too. "Chainmail, huh?"
She makes her way in a bit further, looking around. "Water wouldn't suck," she says after a moment, glancing over.
Angela grins, "Yeah, nice thing about nerds taking over the world… there's a market for authentic looking replicas. Glad to know the practice paid off somehow, you know?" She straightens, holding a pair of water bottles, one of which is set on the counter for Kiden, as Angela raises a bottle in salute, "You can call me Angela." Currently she's wearing a crimson silk blouse with short sleeves, as well as worn blue jeans. Nothing too excessive, but definitely broken in.
She eyes the water bottle for a moment before her need for it outweighs her suspicion of somebody being decent. She crosses the store and reaches out to take it. She holds the cold bottle against her forehead for a moment. "It sucks out there," the girl grunts. She then unscrews the top and takes a few long gulps.
She pulls the bottle from her lips. "Uh. I'm Kiden.."
Angela nods, and smiles warmly, "Good to meet you Kiden." She takes a fairly big gulp from her own bottle, then hrms, "Well, if you want to know anything about the things on display, just let me know. Feel free to look around."
The girl nods to that. She begins to idly walk some of the aisles. She looks at everything like someone who lacks any real interest in history. She is clearly not interested in heading back out into the heat, yet. "You do…well? Selling this kind of stuff?," she asks, curiously.
Angela grins, "Well enough. I mean, SoHo property isn't cheap, but the fact is that you can get things like this for cheaper… but it doesn't have quality, and it shows. This, well, I make these all myself, and I tend to work on commission. Took a lot of practice to get things right, and even longer to get a market, but when a cosplayer needs something authentic made, they know who to call. Or if the local SCA people really want to impress their friends."
She nods a bit to all of that, as if she understood it. She did not. She tucks some of her hair behind her ear and peers into a display case. Her hair is a bit shaggy and unwashed, and her darker roots are starting to grow out a bit. "Yeah, SoHo isn't cheap." Kiden at least got that much. She brings her bottle of water back to her lips and sips it. "I love out in Alphabet City." That means Mutant Town. That means the most crowded, dangerous slum in the country.
Angela nods, "Yeah, that's… an interesting neighborhood. Been out that way a few times, do some volunteer work around there on the weekends." She hrms, "How long have you been out there?"
She shrugs a slender shoulder. "Awhile. A long time." She pauses at one of the displays and peers at it before sh turns and slowly makes her way back over towards the counter. She takes another pull on her water.
Angela nods, "I'm familiar with time taking a while, yes." She glances curiously at the display Kiden paused at, then considers a moment, "Did you want to take a closer look?"
Kiden shrugs and shakes her head. "Nah, nah. It's cool. Thanks, though. I don't even know what it is. It's cool that you make a living off this stuff but it isn't really…my thing?" She nods to that. "But most people don't get to do stuff they like for a living, so that's cool."
Angela chuckles, "Truer words never spoken, Kiden. So… what do you like to do? Or rather, what would you like to do?" She tilts her head, sounding genuinely curious.
The girl furrows her brow and looks out the window. "I don't know." She sounds committed to that, at least. "Kinda just focus on the important stuff right now, you know? Eating, sleeping, keeping the creeps away. Doesn't leave time for a lot else."
Angela nods, "Yeah, that's true." She tilts her head, "When you're scrambling for that stuff, you can't really take the leisure to look for anything else." A bit of a headshake, "Great to stay alive, but not so great for living."
