|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2017 8:50 am
Fred was enjoying it on Deus. The work was good, switching between doing his job in Sun division which was primarily training and keeping fit, to doing his other paid job which was working for Melvin, running errands and generally doing whatever was required of him. In addition to this he was clean and sober with a relationship with his sibling much closer to how things once used to be with the potential to open a tailoring business in his future. He felt fulfilled in a way he hadn’t in years and every morning he woke up he looked forward to the day ahead, a feeling he’d almost forgotten.
There were some people who didn’t much like it on the island, and in the case of someone like Lysander who had been incredibly incredibly wealthy, he could understand why. It was hard to make the most of a place a step up from a youth hostel when you’d had nothing but penthouses, horses and fast cars to call your own. Fred, though well-off money wise had never cared too much about it. His line of work previously meant that he money came easily but he’d just used it to live comfortably and expand his wardrobe. He could do that here too, and his wages would be fine to provide him with the machinery and fabrics he needed.
He’d decided for reasons of his own that an eyepatch was a thing that was going to happen and had crafted one accordingly, making sure that he could see through it sufficiently while not showing his eye, carefully crafting a heart inset into it made of a pair of sunglasses he’d had. The result looked like a man who was missing an eye but resulted in the vision of someone who wasn’t. He was proud of his handiwork and got dressed up to match, wearing one of his fancier outfits as he made his way to his duty that day.
It was one of the simpler and less messy ones, involving sitting down in the dark amongst a lot of weird beeping pods and chilling out for a few hours. It was one of his favourites and one he considered money for old rope. As he settled in he fished out the book he’d been reading and let himself focus on it, the quietness pressing in around him.
His weapon liked the dark, drawn to the feeling of a pitch black warren, close and oppressive underground winding and twisting burrows that led to nowhere. Fred was pleased he was happy, enjoying the company of his truly strange companion.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2017 10:01 am
Mara's time on the island was a slow and careful assessment. She avoided the training fields an unnecessary in her goals and fufulled her duties un her current role by doing simoke tasks. Housework for deus given to what thy must have considered simple workers. Sit here or sit there and look pretty - a skill she was very good at.
The pods had poor lighting but no sun which was good for a young complexion. The sound of heels were heard as she defended, magazines and catalogs under an arm. She had been gone for some time and she was researching the latest trends.
When she saw the man, she stopped. He was a sight, amd she resumed her steps slowly as she approached. "Hello." She said sweetly as she looked over him.
Taking a chair, she dragged it over beside him and sat down.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2017 12:58 pm
Fred glanced up at the sound of Mara's arrival and gave her a wave. "Hey there." he said brightly. "Guess you are my partner down here. I'm Fred." just in case she mistook him for Tom instead. "Don't think we've met." And he smiled. "I'd remember someone as fashionable as you are."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 28, 2017 5:26 am
She smiled beside him. "You have a good eye for only one." She said, setting the magazines on her lap, but checking his overall look.
It screamed eccentric, and that translated to someone who had some taste and money. The tailoring was obvious, and this close she could see how well it fit on his person. "I'm Mara. A pleasure." She said, tipping her chin just a bit out of habit before looking flipping a page.
"I wouldn't expect someone so well dressed to need to be here in the dark."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Nov 29, 2017 12:57 pm
"Thanks!" he said cordially, inclining his head to her.
"And it's nice to meet you, a lot of people here look like they've chosen practicality over fashion, which is a bit of a ******** shame. Not so you."
He laughed at the mention of being in the dark though.
"Yeah mate, I didn't choose to be down here, it's just probably one of the few duties I can get away with dressing comfortably for. When it's more messy or dangerous ones I'm forced to dress dreadfully its the ******** worst let me tell you.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 18, 2017 6:58 am
Her eyes lit up as he preached to her. "Right? Everyone walks around like they are okay wearing stained and tattered clothes. This is not third world. Have self respect. You think with dying they would dress professionally and impress but everyone like they are out of bed. It is dreadful. The standards are low. A disservice to everyone. Lazy to not take time to make yourself look better for the rest."
She corrected her hair a bit before examining him. "I do not do minipet duty. Cleaning animals and walking broken paths in heels. I would do this than that." She turned a page in her magazine. "I miss knowing what is on trend. No stores here either. At least no awful camo colors."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Dec 18, 2017 11:46 am
"I need the cash to buy fabric to make stuff." he said. "So I'm not above getting my hands dirty if I need to. s**t washes off even if you get it on you, I just don't wear my good gear to it." he smirked. "I'm in Sun though, so I'm mosly expected to just look good, I make up the rest of the time working as an assistant for some rich nerd guy."
He looked her over. "You look close to a model." he said. "Wouldn't mind making some clothes for you at some point. It's a shame to waste my talents and s**t just because there's not many customers."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 19, 2017 12:46 pm
She smiled up at him. "I am a model. Now I'm a freelance once." She said as she flipped a page.
"I'm in Death."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 19, 2017 1:11 pm
This seemed to brighten Fred up even more. "So you know how to walk? Fantastic! I would love to get some island couture going. I always wanted my own label, you know?"
He smirked. "Death? Isn't that like all spies and things?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 19, 2017 2:20 pm
"Who knows? Who cares? It's paperwork and desks from what I see and out of the way. I don't want to be infected in some hospital and I don't do manual labor. I did't spend my life cultivating myself to have a limb snapped off." She huffed as she read an article.
"I'd love to do a new portfolio." She glanced up from the corner of her eye to stare at him. "You'll have to show me how well you can work. I mean, have you worked in the business before? Would I know your name?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 08, 2018 1:49 pm
Fred nodded. "Fair enough. I guess if you are avoiding most of the horrible stuff then that's fine. With a face like yours wouldn't want to mess it up or anything, gotta keep your useful bits intact."
He did however seem heartened by her interest. "My work's pretty decent. I don't know if you'd have seen my stuff, any small shows I did were under a pseudonym. Snickersnack was the label I was under usually." he shrugged. "Mostly haute stuff rather than rack. Always wanted to do a rack collection though too."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jan 08, 2018 3:51 pm
She reached out to pick a piece of lint from her dress. "Yeah....I never heard of you. Have you worked on models before? At all?" She said, suddenly loosing interest on Fred and his little hobby. She wanted a designer with talent and a name, but if he was just some hobbiest who had dreams of bigger things without any actual talent or drive.
"I'd have to see dress to see if you know anything." His outfit looked nice but if he had only done his own measurements over and over again then it really wasn't much of a talent and more just a memorization of measurements.
She flipped a page to her magazine. What kind of name was Snickersnack anyways? It sounded like a confectionery bar.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
