Are these boots ugly? (Please be brutal)
Chapter 1: http://22bubble-eyes22.deviantart.com/#/d50vhgj
If I get positive feedback, I will likely continue with this series.
Remember this? I decided to write the scene this comes from:
People of our world will never understand the deceptive title of “Clothing Vendor” and what it meant to Constraint Crate.
The older teen was dutifully folding his wares when Foxx entered the open doorway. Constraint noted how his peer always entered doorways at a brisk pace, trying too hard to be nonchalant. One day that boy’s overconfidence would expose him better than any uncovered mask.
Constraint nodded at the newcomer. He took off his glasses and began to read an order form. Foxx approached the counter and leaned on it with his elbows. The two had an unwritten rule to at least act conversational before they proceeded. What would it look like to a hidden camera to have Constraint leave for the back room immediately upon one of his friend’s arrivals? Besides, this was the perfect time to retrieve news.
Foxx grinned at him, his eyes still strangely visible under the curly black hair and hood.
“Any luck?” Constraint asked.
Foxx shook his head. “There never really was any. H1 insists it’s a lost cause, and apps are changing again anyway.”
Constraint remembered a conversation he had overhead on the way over, with an unmasked teen referring to the clothing she had just bought as ‘apps’. If his friends’ coded lingo became an active part of the average population’s speech, it would be a lot easier to speak like this in public.
Constraint prepared to let go of his old stock of armbands. The other stores had been ordered to remove them about month ago, but they had been selling them under wraps since. Lately, though, most of them had been confiscated right off the arms of people on the street by government officials. If Foxx was saying it wasn’t a good idea to continue selling them, then that was alright. Long shirts were coming back in anyway. The armbands have been doomed from the start, considering the fact that the populace had started decorating them with unacceptable logos.
Foxx had started looking through the racks, pretending to shop. Then again, he probably was shopping. Considering the placement of the dark bands of skin that doomed Foxx as masked, he was forever on the lookout for decent clothing to cover it.
And that was what Constraint was there for. His little shop was considered the extreme of trendy in the city of Devon for its introduction of wild articles of clothing, and for keeping certain pieces in stock even after they became unlawful. There was a very good reason for this, and it had precious little to do with fashion. Constraint sold clothing that was specifically tailored to cover “The Masked”, or, people born with unusual markings on their skin and hair, those who were never supposed to be born.
Constraint himself was masked as well, this is why he currently wore a bandana, but he wasn’t obviously masked. The light skin that drew designs onto his forehead, torso, and wrist was light and similar to the rest. It was also painfully easy to cover up. He could have lived his life without ever being associated with the masked at all, let alone becoming an active member. In the end, he straddled the border between masked and masked sympathizer. And he was proud.
Their dwindling conversation was cut short for good when two girls entered the shop. Constraint was surprised that there hadn’t been more customers today, what with it being a popular shopping day. The two girls whispered to each other and giggled, one shot a look his direction. Constraint entertained the thought that they found him attractive, but knew better.
One of the girls, her hair unusually curly for most city dwellers, approached him. She leaned on the counter.
Again with the counter. Poor Constraint was forever wiping smudges from it.
“People say you have a lot of things that other shops don’t.”
Constraint braced himself. This girl was not going to be subtle. Because of his reputation, Constraint had a grand total of five bugs planted by the government in his shop, and he knew it.
He cleared his throat and replaced his glasses. “Well yes, we do try to stay ahead of trends.”
“How wonderful. Pity though that most places won’t stay more behind them.”
“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be very good for businesses to sell things that people no longer wanted.”
“I suppose that depends on which people no longer wanted them.”
The girl’s friend was looking at a rack of clothes, painfully close to Foxx. Foxx sidestepped her and pulled his hood down further.
The curly-haired one began rubbing her wrist. She probably wanted one of the thick, cloth bracelets. They had been removed from stores right along with armbands. Constraint locked eyes with the girl and tipped his head pointedly to the side, a ‘no’. The girl furrowed her eyebrows and fumed. She quickly changed her face to one more pleading. Constraint had seen better puppy-eyes. He tipped his head again. She looked away.
When Hurry, their leader, decided that something shouldn’t be sold, Constraint listened.
However, he still had to make a living. Constraint stealthily took a glove from a nearby pile and began folding it, seemingly oblivious to his own movements. The glove was now folded in, the fingers and most of the wrist hidden. It now looked quite a bit like a different variety glove that had been long restricted. The girl’s eyes brightened and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Your friend appears to have quite a handful there.” Indeed, the other girl was picking through scarves, over laden with several different colors cast over her shoulder. “Would she maybe like a bag?”
The curly-haired girl was a little slow on this one, but she eventually caught on. “Oh yes please! Maybe two pairs…I mean…maybe two?”
Constraint winced at the flub.
“Oy, Foxx!” he said, beckoning “Could you help me downstairs? I need help getting down a box!”
* * *
Foxx was glad to see Constraint joining the group after locking up. The box of clothes Foxx had retrieved from the shop was being displayed proudly on the makeshift table in front of them. The group were at their regular corner on the shadier of streets, and business had been good. Perhaps they didn’t even need Constraint’s marketing ability today, but Foxx was glad for it anyway. It wasn’t often his friend stopped by, as he didn’t want his own business to be associated with the back-alley deals that went on here.
The only other people with them were Tulip and Ever. The couple sat at the bench holding hands. They nodded at Constraint in greeting. Foxx was secretly glad that there wouldn’t be any making-out from the two of them. It would have been rather difficult what with Ever’s mouth being covered by a scarf.
It was here that they sold most of their leftover illegal stock, mixed in with more legitimate clothes. It was also here that Foxx felt the most free. Even though they covered up, the people who walked these streets were well aware that they were masked. Even the patrolling officers gave them a blind eye, not wanting to deal with the paperwork involved with arresting them. There was nothing else to fear. Who should you be afraid of when you were the corrupted youth to which others gave a fearful respect? Even the most rebellious and dangerous of the passerby stopped only to look over the wares, craving the treacherous thrill they received from buying something illegal from someone illegal. You could be as defiant to the law as you wanted, but nothing beat being unlawful by birth.
Ponies in hoodies are now best thing.
Modpony and Chocolate Dip at http://askchocolatedip.tumblr.com/
That magical time when you’ve listened to a new song just often enough that your ears anticipate just a few notes before they appear. They are pleased when they are affirmed, and pleasantly surprised when they’re not.
Too early with a song and it’s meh. Too late and it’s been exhausted. Embrace it.
Listening too: Helena Beat by Foster the People
Exclusive tumblr version :P See the original version with shades over herea: http://22bubble-eyes22.deviantart.com/art/SsDs-Octavia-and-Vinyl-Scratch-302119601
