2007-10-19: A New Pantsuit

Starring:

Mikhail_icon.gif Persi_icon.gif

Guest Starring:

Portia_icon.gif

Summary: Mikhail goes shopping for clothes and Persi targets him to get stuff for free.

Date It Happened: October 19, 2007

A New Pantsuit


Random Store of Vintage and Other Nifty Clothing Things

As the sun just starts on its slow descent over the nicer end of New York, nobody really cares. I mean, c'mon; it's the nice part of town, nobody's gonna get shanked. Despite everybody's certainty that the scummier sorts residing in the city are relegated to Harlem and the like, Persi's here. She's browsing — that's something she does a lot. She doesn't usually show up at the checkout counter, no matter how many times she visits a store — and this time her store of choice is a ginormous clothing store that stocks everything from undershirts to zoot suits to even some Halloween costumes, given the time of year. At the moment, she's taking a good look at some of the nice, snazzy suits (obviously made for menfolk) toward the back of the store.

—-

This is what he should be doing on the weekends: loit-er, hanging out in his free time outside of the studio, a break from the usual routine Mikhail has set up for himself of late. Working on enlarging the images for his paintings proved to be a challenge, and he needs to step back and look at them with fresh perspective anyway.

So the artist now finds himself in this particular store, checking out the fashion niftiness of it all. Sidling through the aisles, Miki has managed to gather some articles of clothing together for purchase. Considering his taste in fashion, this is no surprise. He does make his weave back and forth, squeezing passing Persi once he spots something else that catches his eye. "Whoops, 'scuse," he says, shuffling as he goes.

—-

Wandering along outside the shops, Portia's got her guitar on back. She's glancing at the various windows, not really finding anything in particular, but she slowly wanders into the store, noticing something that catches her eye.

—-

Persi turns around partway when Mik squeezes past her, her attention following him as an automatic instinct, just in case he snatched something from her — nevermind she doesn't really have much of anything to snatch. Her attention lingers for a moment, not so much on Mikhail in particular, but just in that direction, as she's noticed Portia wandering in. Deciding that this evening is as good as any for the purposes of causing unnecessary trouble, Persi casually sidesteps over to Mik and gives him a firm, straightforward poke to the back of one shoulder, "Hey, mister. Think you can do me a favor?"

—-

So he isn't going to get away with sliding past this time. Annnnd poked. Twitching slightly, the young man turns halfway, blue gray eyes flicker away from the shiny coat and back to Persi, his expression stoic and curious. Shifting the clothes he has in the crook of his arm, probably more troubling if he even tried to pickpocket that way if it ever crossed his mind, Mikhail blinks. "Uh…sure?" he replies in a low tone.

—-

Persi clasps her hands at her waist and does her best to look as demure and not-lying as possible as she starts in on her con, "Okay, so here's the thing…I'm in town for the wedding of an old high school friend of mine, and I'm supposed to be her best man (long story, don't ask). Anyway, I came up with a group of friends of mine that were headed this way anyway, and now that it's time to get TO the wedding, I find out that not only do I not have my suit on me, I can't find my wallet, and the wedding's in two hours, so I'm basically screwed. D'you think you could help me out? I don't know the first thing about fashion and I'm flat broke."

—-

Wait. Shouldn't it usually be the other way around? Or…whatever.

Quirking an eyebrow, Mikhail totally buys into it. Well, it makes sense - if there's Some Important Event going on, there's always Something Forgotten or Messed Up to go along with it. And seeing how the girl is 'sincere' with her plea, he can't just leave her hanging like this. He doesn't know her, sure, but…

He's going to be nice about it. "…I don't see why I should leave you hanging if it's that bad," he shrugs. It wouldn't be right. The artist nods, making his decision. "Sure. What the heck." No problems here!

—-

Persi puts on a huge grin the second the slightest sign of assent comes across. Once Mik's fully agreed, she claps her hands a couple of times and keeps on grinning, "Yes! Thanks soooo much! And don't worry. I'll talk to Denise at the wedding and make sure she reimburses you — it's her wedding, anyway!" With that, Persi turns to look around at the nearest racks of clothing, "So, um. Whaddaya think? I had a boring black number before, but I'm thinking something more me, y'know? But I'm not sure what colors really fit my hair right now — maybe an orange and black for Halloween? I dunno… — Oh, I'm Persi, by the way!" With that, she turns to stick out her hand to be shaken, all polite-like.

—-

"Mikhail," the art student replies softly, returning the handshake. "You're welcome, but yeah - I don't mind. Whatever works, I guess." Eyelids flutter slightly, but he maintains that bored look as his voice starts warming up with the whole fashion perspective. "Well…you can do that. I haven't been to many weddings myself, but I'm sure things should be all right if you don't upstage the bride." Is that right? Someone correct him if he's wrong. He starts shuffles to the other side, fingers dancing over the plastic hangers as he gets distracted for a moment. Whoa, what is that. "Uh…nothing like that, though," he adds hastily, moving on.

—-

Persi shrugs a little and folds her arms behind her head with fingers interlaced, "I have nooo idea. I don't do weddings, normally, but I kinda owe her. I say, pick what'll look good and don't worry about propriety and price tags." Of course, being the curious sort, and never one to have a secret hidden from her, she whirls around the moment she hears "nothing like that" and slides over to try and figure out where Mik was when he said that, "Wait, nothing like what? If it's a terrible, terrible, horrifying thought, it's probably just right for the kinda wedding we're talking about here."

—-

Mikhail nods, seeing how a going to a wedding can count as a favor. Dressing up, partying, well-wishing - nice. "Eh, it happens," he says. His hand stops, backtracking just as quickly as he went forward to pick out the dress in question. Horribly clashing neon colors and strange cuts like it wasn't planned from the beginning. He just gives her a look as he holds it up briefly. "Like this? I don't think so." Back it goes. The same hand goes over again, taking out another dress. Much more tasteful than the last one, and it has color. "How about this? Glitzy but not cutesy."

—-

Persi looks just a tad sulky at not getting to wear something completely ridiculous and garish, but nods her assent nonetheless, "I mean, you're the boss, you tell me. I'm definitely not the biggest advocate of 'cutesy;' that really isn't me. Really, I go more for 'awesome' than anything, so whatever makes you think 'awesome' and stays far away from the colors yellow and blue is fine with me."

—-

Is she seriously trying to inflate his ego? Maybe it would work for Ian, but Mikhail lets it fly over his head. Of course, it still hits him a little, but that's just how it works. He puts all of the stuff he's holding for himself over another rack nearby to free up his other arm to hold out some more choices. "I don't want to just give you a dress and force you to wear it," comes an answer that sounds sort of wrong if set in the wrong context. He has to pause and think about what he just said. "…yeah. But here, lemme see…" Two, three more dresses are chosen. And a suit? "These are cool, too. Edgy. Something."

—-

Persi surveys the choices for a moment, considers, and eventually points not at the dresses, but at the suit, "I pick the one with pants. I mean, the black'n'green number is nice, but I think a suit is more appropriate to the occasion, and, hell, I might even be able to wear it for job interviews or something even after the wedding's done with. And I like the edgy. Edgy's a good word for me." A few nods and Persi puts that overlarge grin back on, "Right then! Sound good to you? If so, I think we're done here!"

—-

"Okay then," Mikhail smirks, "I think it's fine with me." He then lays the suit out on top and puts the other dresses back into their places. He's not judging her tastes; her decisions are respected. Plus, she's not as bad at fashion as she says she is. Persi's definitely edgy, and the suit works for her. "Multiple usage is always a good thing." The artist gives it a thoughtful glance before switching over to her. Should he mention size? Or will he get killed for it? Hesitant, he just lets her recheck it for herself. Safer that way.

—-

Persi does, indeed, step over to make sure she gets an appropriate size, but, when she's found the right one, she tosses it right back in with Mik's stuff and then crosses her arms in satisfaction of a job well done, "Right then, that's that. I'll just follow you around 'til you're done. What're you looking for, Mik? Something that isn't quite so, uh…twice as big as you?" She puts on the sweetest smile she can manage while being a smartass, even if it probably doesn't help her get her suit paid for.

—-

The artist catches it with ease as he gathers his stuff together, hefting it once more. "That shouldn't take too long then. I think I got everything else…" He trails off, eyes falling onto the other side of the store for a while. "…okay, so I haven't seen that side yet. Maybe. I don't remember." Mikhail then makes a face at Persi, the smirk still present. "Hah. I do wear clothes that fit, Pers. Just not all of the time," he replies with a chuckle as he starts to wander.

—-

Persi smirks right back at Mik, but takes his lack of offense at her remark to say that he's open season for ribbing. As such, while she's following him, she pauses to snatch a particularly bright and feminine piece out from one of the racks, wiggling it back and forth a little, "Hey, Mik. You should get this one — get this and a guitar and people will totally think you're from X-Japan or something. C'mon, think of all the dates you could get off of that."

—-

Oh gosh. Mikhail falters when he turns to look at Persi and the little number she randomly picks out. Thankfully he doesn't fall over altogether. Instead, he stifles a laugh the best he can. "Wow," he coughs into his fist, grinning. It's so bad. And true. "It'd be great for Halloween, but I have something already." Put it back. Please. Miki just shakes his head, snickering.

—-

Persi slouches once again and reluctantly puts it back. That done, she quickly catches up to Mik and serves as a distraction and a pest to break his concentration on shopping whenever possible by chatting incessantly, "So, who are you, anyway? I mean, I know you're a Japanese guy with a lumberjack's name, but that's about it." After giving Mik a quick once-over, she squints a little, "Lemme guess…baggy clothes, low-key metal bits…skinny, lack of comb…well, damn. If you're not /in/ a band, you sure wanna be. I can't think of something else to say that would have any basis whatsoever in fact. Lame."

—-

Like he needs more distractions. With his attention span, it's fairly easy to do. In contrast to her numerous sentences, he answers back with short phrases. It must be frustrating for her. "I'm an art student. At NYU," he starts, trying to follow the conversation while browsing through some other shirts and whatnot. Still, he has to look up from whatever he's doing to stare at her. "…" She does hit almost everything, and the assumptions are amusing. "Well. The band thing would've been a trick. If it helps, I joined the school's dance team," Miki says with a wry smirk.

—-

Okay, now that's too easy. Persi -really- can't help herself, despite the fact that even someone so imperceptive as she could see that she might be going far enough to endanger her free clothes, she just has to say it — however, she does draw it out with a lead-in, "Really? The dance team? Huh. Kinda reminds me of Henry James. Y'know, the little short story he wrote called 'The Real Thing.' Except you're not a Monarch, you're the little Italian guy, or Miss Churm, or whatever their names were." Realizing that art student doesn't necessarily mean lit student, Persi clarifies: "What I mean to say is…most Japanese girl-boys' identification as gay comes from the minds of wistful fangirls, not from reality."

—-

Yeah, he has no idea what all of that means. It's probably something he did learn in class but was too busy drawing out dinosaurs all over the notebook. Still, her explanation does sum it up quite nicely. "….I see." No, he hasn't really been called that up front and all. He never really had anyone say anything along the lines of that before anyway. Mikhail looks a little offended, but it's nothing to get worked up about. He glances off to the side with a sad smile. He doesn't know what else to say for that matter.

—-

Persi eyes Mik for a moment, then steps over and throws an arm over his shoulder to shake him back and forth vigorously, "Aw, c'mon! I was kidding! Don't be all sad all of a sudden. I'm sure you're amazingly manly — I'm sure you like titties and beer, or whatever manly men are supposed to like. Now cheer up, or else!"

—-

It's impossible to stay serious when jostled like this. Mikhail laughs weakly, blushing lightly for being sort of emo about it. "Y-yeah, if you put it that way, I guess." There's always time to experiment later. Right now he has to go and pay for this. "All right, all right, I'm cheery. See? Yay," he pipes up, still sounding flat and deadpan. "Lemme just get everything rung up and stuff." Of course, while trying to walk over to the cash register, he is pretty preoccupied. The shaking added to it.

—-

Persi stuffs her hands in her pockets and tags along with her newfound patron, all the way up to the cashier's counter. At first, she just keeps a big, cheerful smile on her face to play the role of unobtrusive chick-friend so that the cashier doesn't pay her much mind, but she ends up pestering Mik anyway, "What about her? She's kinda cute. Unless you're not into redheads — but then, with a name like Mikhail, you should be."

—-

"She's okay," Mikhail asides, glancing back at Persi while he digs out the cash needed for all of it. Credit is used only for emergencies. "Pretty, cute, red hair's fine." His mouth twists a little in thought as he forks over the money, leaning back to wait for the change. "B…yeah. Why are you so interested in this?" he asks with a smile of uncertainty.

—-

Persi pats Mikhail on the shoulder a few times with a flat, sedate sort of smile now — her response comes in much the same monotone Mik was using earlier, "Well, Mik, it's simple; I'm easily bored, and I don't own a place to live, nor do I have a job or a school to go to, so I have to entertain myself with random people like you. Make sense?"

—-

Mikhail keeps his gaze level with hers, maintaining the tone. "Yes. It does," he replies dryly. "So much." The money is handed back to him and the clothes are bagged, Mikhail checking the bags so the suit can go with Persi. "And here you go."

—-

Persi pauses and looks down at the suit when it's handed over to her, then looks back up at Mik for a couple of seconds, "Holy shit, you're actually letting me keep the suit after that?" After a moment of being stunned, Persi throws an arm around Mik once more in as much of a hug as she's willing to give someone (one-armed, that is), "Hey, you're actually cool! Thanks, man! I'd totally give you a kiss on the cheek, but after all that, it'd probably be kinda creepy. So, uh. Yeah."

—-

Totally unexpected. The hug comes as a surprise, Miki's eyes widening more than they usually do. "Ah, y-yeah. The…the hug's fine," he stammers, recomposing himself while still half-wrapped in Persi's arm. He'd return it, but the bags will be in the way. He smiles softly, nodding. "You're welcome."

—-

Persi leaves it at that, partially because it's a good point to leave it at, and one of the few meetings with people that have ever come out with good feelings on both ends. That, and she just doesn't want to screw up a good thing — thus, she does what any normal person would do: after a grin at Mik, she goes running out the front of the store waving the bag and cheering way, way, way too loudly, "YAY! FREE CLOTHES!"

—-

Mikhail watches as Persi goes on her merry way, loud as it is. He is happy that she is happy. Although it was sort of strange, it just adds to his list of weird but fun people. He'd wave, but she's already gone by the time he comes about that thought. Shrugging, Miki saunters out afterward, humming to himself with the minor accomplishments made today.

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