After he was pretty sure he'd almost ripped apart yet another shirt he'd been trying on--it wasn't his fault the slits for wings did not fit all sizes--Neithan was debating if it was considered running away and-or in any way cowardly to just... hop on the next bus back to Amity. Sitting on the bench along the median of the strip of the maul he'd been attempting to shop in, chin in hand as he peered around at the various booths and shops, it was a rather incredible nagging going on in his skull. He needed new clothes. This was a given. One look at him would say as much. Sure he tried to keep his things neat and washed, but that was probably the problem at this point--that and he didn't really know how to sew up the various nicks and tears too frequent use brought on.
The threadless shirt had more of these wears than he'd like to admit, and while his trousers were a bit better.... the edges were starting to get a bit frayed. At least his boots were standing up ok to daily use. He'd take any bit of luck at this point.
Eyes narrowing, he watched as others meandered about the stores, picking up various articles and holding them up to their bodies as they looked in mirrors, or looked to companions for input. Patterns on cloth and sparkling bits caught his attention here and there, but he couldn't fathom how all the parts were supposed to come together. Top, bottoms, shoes (if one required them), maybe some overwear... the bare bones he got. Also the concept of "size does matter." He was tall and broad, sure, but he'd seen a few others around his mass making purchases without too much issue.
The flame between his horns sparked as the balrog continued to watch the masses passing this way and that through the maul. His pride demanded he go back into one of the stores and try again. Something had to be out there in his size. But what if it was? None of the... articles looked like his.
A dark thought occurred that he probably should have asked Lute along with him on this trip. Or at least checked around on the web to see if he could find any shops that fit his... ah....
...ugh. Call it what it is. His comfort level.
The flame between his horns sputtered before seeming to slump and diminish a great deal, even as the balrog himself barely batted a lash. Though he did give a long breath through his nose.
Seiana_ZI
looook it's a thing
