estoria | [OPEN]

Entry tags:

[OPEN]

Who: maruko "marco" reiji (

drinkscola) and you!!!
When: 08.02
Where: various places
What: marco being uncool... also guns, soda, and a football
Rating/Warning: mild language, but otherwise nothing for now!

a.

[ welcome to the gun show

or a gun range, more specifically. here's a guy dressed in a pinstripe suit (actually a school uniform, thank you), lifting a sig sauer p226 towards a target. he's done his homework such that his stance and grip are correct, but... experience tends to trump textbook knowledge. he sweats, manages to keep his hand from trembling, and squeezes the trigger.

BANG.

and holy shit, even with protective earmuffs, that's loud as fuck and the resulting kick is even more startling. while the bullet's hit its mark, marco doesn't quite notice as he yelps and drops the weapon; it clatters to the floor wherein it sets off again.

BANG.

whoops. at least that one hit the wall and not a person. he's immediately looking around to make sure no one heard that, much less witnessed it. ]

b: shopping district.

[ well that had been rough and embarrassing— time for some caffeinated, sugary calories. after fishing out his wallet, selecting coca-cola and swiping his card, a single cola tumbles out.

except, after that's been retrieved, the sodas don't stop coming. they continue to cascade out of the machine one-by-one, rolling on the surrounding pavement in a variety of directions. ]

What the hell, I'd say—!!

[ the vending machine continues until it's empty of every can. ]

c: shopping district, part 2.

[ during his hour of waiting for a maintenance bot to show (it won't), marco's taken to building an elaborate pyramid structure. he kind of half-expects something to come along and obliterate it, so he won't be too surprised when that happens. it's been a painful waste of time.

he fixes another can to its side. ]

Geez, what is up with CERES lately...

[ he gets being forced to live in a dystopia, okay, but an inefficient one sucks. ]

d: entertainment/pleasure district.

[ as someone who usually practices alone, even back home, it might be useful to scope out talent. temporarily useful, as marco knows none of this should actually stick. once he's spied someone that looks physically capable of regularly withstanding tackles and somewhat unoccupied (by which he means, unoccupied hands), he's raising his football. ]

Here. Catch, I'd say.

[ whether you like it or not, it's beamed toward your torso. hey, be grateful or something that at least he didn't beam it at your head!! ]

e: boutique; closed to kashuu.

[ okay, in-between being broke (a relative adjective) and newcomers and gross cybuddies and avoiding the hell out of everyone due to those memory shenanigans, marco's finally traversed somewhere beautifully expensive with intent. upon entering, impressed already, he'll approach someone that looks to work there. ]

Hey, I'm Marco. [ potentially useless information, okay. moving on: ] And I'm looking for someone named Kashuu Kiyomitsu...

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[Said employee looks up from arranging some shirts on a new display rack, immediately curious. Someone's looking for him?? Marco, though... Give him a second.]

Marco? Marco, Marco... Oh! [Recognition lights up his face and he claps his hands together, turning away from the clothes.] I remember you! What's up? Finally come to get a suit?

[SURPRISE, there he is, Kashuu Kiyomitsu... He sure looks like he fits in here, at least, decked out in high-end clothes that are probably modeling samples from the upcoming line.]

[why is he here? why are ANY of us here? who allowed this shithead near a gunrange? it doesn't matter, what matters is the screech he gives off when the bullet goes off]

MOOOOOOTHERFUCK! I thought this place was to teach you shit! Why is a butterfingers like you here?

[ so, yes, kashuu's a... man... here he had expected a cute girl. okay, maybe not a cute girl, but a cute woman. not to say kashuu isn't cute, but. he's not female. there's no outburst to accompany this, thankfully; his eyes had widened only briefly. ]

Ah... [ ahem. ] Yeah, yeah. A suit would be good.

[ that's not cool enough, though. so, quickly adding and sounding considerably less stupid: ]

The best you have. [ wait. ] Not the best, as I can't break the bank, but I'd like to be impressed.

[

hoooly fucking shit can kaneda yell and draw attention and here marco had been hoping to keep that incident under wraps. he wants to cry a little bit because that. not to mention they basically have to scream even louder to hear one another of the dumb earmuffs. ]

I'm— [ hastily scrambling to retrieve the gun; he can't think of an adequate excuse for this. ] I just didn't... It was my first time shooting one!!

[It wouldn't have been something that Kashuu is unused to, at least... Sometimes people just look at his cutesy emojis and ridiculous way of typing and that's the way it goes!

He's chipper as ever, either way, gesturing to the other side of the shop.]

Sure, sure! C'mon this way, then. We can start taking a look over here. These're the ones that you can get for a pretty moderate price, but they're still top quality! Basically everything in our shop is.

[It's a fancy boutique, after all! The price tags definitely match in a lot of cases, but Kashuu hands out discounts like candy...]

What style are you looking for? Or color...?

That's your answer, huh. [he doesn't look impressed, now a little less frazzled and that much more of a smug asshole. He crosses his arms over his chest, smirks.]

That just won't do, man. When you do that in front of girls, they're gonna laugh.

[Kuramochi was probably planning to get a bottle of delicious cola. Past tense because he sees the vending machine rampage caused by someone familiar as he stops dead in his tracks for a moment.]

Holy shit, did you just break the vending machine?

Edited (it would help it i wrote down which prompt) 2016-07-07 06:17 (UTC)

[Wow. That's a messy sight.

Don't mind Frisk as they saunter up to this cola disaster, casually picking up one of the cans as it rolls their way. They pop it open once they're in front of the vending machine, taking a sip while it just keeps emptying itself out.]

... Can you make it do that again? But with... water bottles.

[Frisk, that's sTEALING.]

[...honestly, this is far from the strangest thing Fugo has ever seen in his life, or even in Cerealia, but he pauses beside Marco and his artwork (?) anyway.]

What's all this for?

[Did something in Cerealia happen to make him act like this or is this a conscious choice, that is the question—]

[And she catches!]

Marco? Are you practicing?

[All he wanted was to go to the grocery store... He didn't expect this obstacle in his path.]

Drinking all of these is going to be rough.

[Naoki's just going to pick his way care...fully... through the sea of soda cans in Marco's direction. He's doing his best to avoid stepping on one because he doesn't want to be coated in pop today, no sir.]

[ yes, there we go with that body language... marco holds the weapon at his side, canting his head as his mouth draws into a thin line. ]

In front of a girl or not, it won't happen again. [ stated pretty firmly, that. and now, a touch dryly: ] However, thank you for the concern.

[ why kuramochi, of all people...!! somehow, he makes the situation just a little more stressful. marco squares his shoulders, watching the soda rolls away... he sticks out his foot to stop a few from rolling into someone's path. ]

Judging by the fact that it's spewing cans of soda all over the ground...

[ really. it's hard to blame this on anyone else. ]

Well. It's certainly malfunctioned, I'd say.

[ why... marco watches them nonchalantly partake. well, it's stealing anyway, as he's fairly certain frisk couldn't put money into the machine if they tried right now. he almost envies this person's calmness.

picking up a few, arms laden with sodas: ]

Even if I could, why would I even try that—? Use a water fountain.

[ that tone... marco's unsure if he should feel embarrassed or not. he glances sideways, mouth tugging into an innocuous smile. ]

Kaa~ Maintenance, perhaps. I think it looks better this way. [ instead of all over the floor. he's not sure if that explains it well, though, so he shrugs toward one of the vending machines. ] I don't know if you've noticed machines going haywire as of late.

Edited 2016-07-10 01:12 (UTC)

[ —!! nice reflexes! marco's hands lower; he blinks at her before offering a smile. ]

Ah, Vietnam-chan... It's good to see you.

[ the -chan route. just telling it like it is, okay. ]

And I suppose you could say that... But "scouting" might be more accurate, in this case.

[ NAOKI... a cool, strong guy looking onto this mess that he's made; marco could die. he tries to curtail his anxiety somewhat (trying not to look so hurried in picking them up by allowing his steps to slow, forcing a smile) with mixed results. ]

[ he tries a friendly wave. ends up dropping a cola, only to catch it before spatters onto the ground again. ]

You could help, I'd say. [ he could. does he want to? he suspects not. ] I'm not a fan of diet sodas, you see. [ of which there are plenty of! ]

You might as well just stop touching that...don't even look at it. Leave it in the hands of someone who can handle the badassary.

[a loud scoff.] No problem. That's what friends are for.

Ah. I forgot how sensible and enlightened your opinions are.

[ except that's not exactly how he feels about these opinions, and he's forgotten nothing... needless to say, he doesn't put the gun down, nor does he seem adverse to glancing at it. ]

Let me guess: You're the one that can handle the badassery?

[ kashuu, so sunny... he almost feels it to be contagious. he'd wonder how someone can be so excitable, but then recalls that yes, he is technically trying to make a sale here. that makes sense. when the begin that way, marco will follow along, letting him lead. ]

Darker, muted colors. [ aka, black. like his soul, etc. ] I prefer Italian style. [ which is probably obvious as well as overkill, but. ]

[ it's not a lot of information to go off on, he knows, what with how varied suits can be. continuing: ]

Actually, I was hoping you might be decide on that. You know, just to see what you consider the most stylish.

[ read: this is a challenge, kashuu. show him what you can do when it comes to choosing simply the best. and judging by his tone, even if light, it's a little serious with an undertone of "please don't be disappointing". fabric, fit, solid or pinstriped color, pockets, lapel style, buttons... it's all in his hands. ]

I'm sure you do, being as braindead as you are. [just gonna igNore]

Of course! There's a war going on at home, y'know. Dog eat world eat shit.

Clever. [ and while he's tempted to, and while he knows he could: ] I won't bother going into the impossibilities of that.

[ unless nitpickiness is suddenly called for... ]

A war? ... You're from Japan, aren't you?

You're just saying that cause you know you're wrong. And being lame.

[really casual about the state of the world, ain't he]

Yeah. It's shit, really. Government, the shitty adults in charge, all of it.

[Soon, he'll see that NAH... Nah, this is just the way Kashuu is All The Time (nearly). Some people just have a ridiculous excessive amount of sparkly energy when it comes to the important things in life, like fashion and...

Mostly fashion.

But! More importantly! He can see the challenge issued here, and he just grins. There might be the edge of something vaguely cocky in it, because he's very sure of himself when it comes to things like this.]

Don't worry! Just that is all I need to work with. Gimme a sec, I'll be right back!

[AND AWAY HE GOES...

When he comes back, he's got several suits in his arms. There's are two black suits, one very dark grey with bright, nearly-silver looking pinstripes, and one that's a classic navy. All of them have pockets because you gotta, though only one of the black suits has the notched lapel style. The others are peaked, and the navy blue one comes with a decorative lapel piece already attached. As for fit, most of them are closely tailored with plenty of darts, and seem to have emphasis on the shoulders - albeit in a classy way and not an 80s hair band way. Chic mafiosos like looking big and intimidating, right??

He's also carrying some shoes because YOU GOTTA.]

O-kay, let's get started! I'll pick out a tie and pocket square for whichever one you like best, free of charge. Oh, and we'll get you to a tailor, too! It's easy to eyeball someone's size, but nothing off the rack will fit perfectly.

[Fugo glances toward the vending machine, and—]

...oh. I see.

[That made sense. It's almost a relief that it's "just" the machinery acting up and not anything else, though he didn't want to get too comfortable just yet. It seemed like there was always something going wrong here.]

I suppose there's no chance of anyone actually coming to fix this.

[He had no faith in this place.]

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e! points at eyes points at marco

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