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Post by Bluestreak on Oct 14, 2011 18:15:37 GMT -5
Bluestreak's optics widen slightly as the tall, rather intense-looking brunette model turns to show the dress. "Oh, that looks very nice! That reminds me of something that C--umm, someone I met used to wear. Only she didn't have a cape, but I think her husband did. It was very formal, not for the field; capes aren't really that good when you're ducking laserfire, they get caught on things and stuff."
-----
Tim catches up with Georgia as she's repinning part of a very short, ivory-colored ruffled skirt on her model. "That's an interesting look, Georgia. What are your thoughts on this?"
Georgia removes a pin from between her lips and pins another strip of fabric. The model turns slightly as Georgia works around her, continuing the pin-up. Farlane, in robot mode, looks on with a gleeful grin. The design seems to meet with his approval.
Georgia looks up at the camera and fingers the hem of the pink-fringed, short-skirted, sleeveless ivory dress. "Farlane is very colorful, and a bit... sassy, so I wanted a dress that complimented his colors without disappearing into them. The ivory color and the soft, ruffled texture contrasts nicely with him, while the beaded fringe suggests his own colors. The dress itself is inspired by the 'flapper' dress of the 1920s--an icon of bold, independent, 'sassy' women who loved dancing and parties."
The camera turns toward Farlane for his reaction...
---- Farlane posed with player permission. Georgia's outfit is almost pure 1920's flapper, with ivory ruffled fabric and pink & red beaded fringe.
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Post by Farlane/Faye Fairlane on Oct 17, 2011 14:20:56 GMT -5
Farlane is an easy to please mech! Probably too easy, really. Since so many things meet his approval, being able to meet it.... doesn’t actually say much about the actual quality of things. The very definition of easy to please.
Regardless, his joy is virtually tangible in the face of the current proceedings.
“Oooh, that looks absolutely stunning!” He claps his hands together and beams happily. “It looks like the kinda dress that’d move with ya in a good dance. Brilliant!”
“I wanted something a bit spacey since you mentioned building ships. Spacey but still wearable,” Sarentino murmurs to Mayday a bit distractedly as he concentrates on fitting the dress to the model, making the final adjustments so that the dress looked its best. “The colors are a match, so the textures will contrast with your look.” He doesn’t really mention Mayday’s personality out of respect for the bike, but the influences are clearly there.
The dress was a bright blue halter top that ended with a tasteful ribbon on the back of the model’s neck. It gradient faded into nervous white ripples that disrupted the edges of the skirt. The skirt stopped halfway down the model’s thighs and a white belt was looped around her waist. She wore matching blue leggings and white heels.
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Oct 19, 2011 19:29:53 GMT -5
Mayday eyes his model nervously, rubbing a knuckle against his faceplate directly over his mouth. "It's, um, nice? I like the, uh, leg... thingies. But do you think maybe she should be more... covered?"
Her arms are all bare and everything! She actually has to touch things with her hands. Well, so does Mayday, really, but he'd rather not, and he's also not a squishy organism on a planet full of other tiny organisms and sub-organisms waging a never-ending war against his biology! But what does Mayday know about fashion anyway? Not much, that's what.
The dress Christopher is fitting on his model is varying shades of greys, much like Skyblast himself is. None of the shades match the Autobot exactly, but could be found on the same gradient. The top of the dress is light grey, simple and form-fitting. At the waist it switches to a darker grey skirt, which flares out slightly and has a jagged bottom that resembles the bottom of Skyblast's alt-mode when viewed from the front. A line of bunched, wispy white fabric sticks out in a curve from the model's right hip to the leftmost point of the dress's hem, meant to be reminiscent of smoke.
"I really love the idea your outline as a jet as a silhouette," Christopher is explaining to Skyblast. "Now this isn't the complete thing. Like you can see in the designs-" He's left his sketches out for Skyblast to look at. "-She's going to have a short jacket, same color as the skirt, to complete the hourglass sort of shape."
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Nimbus Tsura
Major
Secretary to Mr. Breakaway
Sky-Painter Extraordinaire
Posts: 735
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Post by Nimbus Tsura on Oct 25, 2011 15:05:50 GMT -5
"You know," Skyblast says cheerily, looking at the wispy white fabric, "that reminds me of water vapour build up. Like you get when you break the sound barrier sometimes? I mean, I guess that you don't personally break the sound barrier, uh, ever, but..." He trails off, laughing, and shrugs, giving the camera a winning smile to cover his faux pas. Hey, it's hard to relate when you are an alien who easily breaks the sound barrier and all the natives think that running slightly over 20 MPH is a big deal. Then he adds, equally cheerily as before, "Oh, I like jackets! Mirage bought me a jacket once." He seems happy.
Greta's parents were killed by the Rainbow Raider when she was a child in front of her eyes at an art gallery gala opening because her parents were famous architects, so she swore at a young age to rid the fashion world of all bright and saturated colours. This is almost certainly a lie. Probably. What she is working on now is now is an off-white ivory dress with a high waistline - something of an empress cut, one might say. As accents, there sort of faded lilac... almost racing stripes and golden dun fleur de lis. Her model has her hair done up in an ornate, curling updo. Ivory, purple, and gold? Well, at least she's trying for some sort of noblesse oblige motif. She looks up at Mirage and demands, "Well?"
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Post by Mirage on Oct 30, 2011 12:23:47 GMT -5
Mirage takes long seconds before replying to Greta's demand.
"I do not mind the lines, though in my opinion it seems a bit too soft to be set against my angles. The colors, though," Mirage makes a gesture that includes the other robots in the room, "We are not known for our muted color palates. Also, shine and shimmer is attractive to us. Dullness denotes sickness and age." So yeah, the pale lilac? Not doing it for Mirage.
"It fits the woman well, however."
Said woman is nearly cringing in her gown. She's been through enough fitting to know that Greta responds badly to negative criticism.
OOC: Yeah, I was trying to work on a sketch, but haven't been able to do so. Sorry.
It is entirely possible that during their thirty minute chat, Rodimus mentioned a certain solidly-built green mech. Maybe he didn't. Either way, Chris is pleased by his client's response to the material choice. And there will be flames, Rodimus. Oh yes. There will be flames.
About this time, Tim Gunn makes his way over to Christ's station.
"So, I am loving the cut and how this gown drapes on her...," Timm says, fingering the fabric and revealing how it shimmers in the light.
"I hear a 'but' coming on, Tim," Christ says around the pins in his mouth.
Tim cuts his eyes from the gown to Rodimus and back, "Aren't you a little worried about it coming off well, a bit Christmas-ish?"
Edited in record scratch and cut to the white room
Christ looks terribly offended.
Christmas-ish!!!![/b]
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Nov 2, 2011 16:36:37 GMT -5
Rodimus's optics flicker in an approximation of a confused blink at Tim's question. "I... wasn't," he admits. Then he looks down at the dress, then up at Tim. He holds his arm up near the fabric, then shrugs. "No, I'm still not," he declares. Of course, this may just be what happens when one asks a naked robot for their opinion on clothes.
Sean winces briefly when Bluestreak talks about how similar the get-up is to something "a friend" used to wear. While there's always some risk of looking 'overdone' when one goes with a 'retro' styling, he was certainly hoping for something that wasn't too 'common.' "Well, we're not really looking for 'field wear', anyway," he observes, then considers. "I'll have to really work some of those details, I think."
OOC: Can I suggest moving to the next 'phase'?
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Post by Bluestreak on Nov 7, 2011 20:25:54 GMT -5
Bluestreak looks worriedly at Sean after he winces. "Did I say something wrong? Are you okay? Really, I do like the cape and dress, it's just that it reminded me of someone I knew, and she was a very nice person, so that's a good thing. I mean, if it reminded me of someone bad, that would be bad, but it didn't, so everything is okay." He smiles anxiously at Sean
In the white room, Georgia purses her lips and says, "Farlane iz almost too easy to please--but I am confident in my work. Still, with the judges, who can say for sure? What pleases me does not always please them.
Tim Gunn returns to the room and claps his hands once. "Designers, time is up! You have one hour for hair-styling, make-up and accessories, so let's get lined up for the <Product Insert> styling salon and <Product Insert #2> make-up room. Choose your accessories wisely from the Piperlime accessory wall. Let's go!"
Georgia follows her model to the salon, needle and thread in hand as she tacks down the last bit of beading. "Hold still, almost done... there! Now, here's what I want done with zee hair...."
---- Ready to move on, yes. Start the runway!
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Post by Pee-Dee on Nov 11, 2011 22:50:50 GMT -5
It's a lovely bright sunny day. The runway is completely set up, and the models are all "backstage" with their Autobot partners, hidden by the heavy black drapes and vigilant Project Runway bouncers.
Unusually, this runway is laid out along the ground rather than elevated. It's also... paved? The fans gathered don't quite know what to make of it, but they love it.
The designers sit on one side of the runway, while the two usual judges sit on the other. There's not a chair for a guest judge.
Heidi walks out along the runway, wearing a rust-colored double-breasted coat over a pair of black pencil slacks. "Hello." She smiles at the designers. "Welcome to the runway. As you know in fashion, one day you're in, the next day you're out. There's six of you now, and after today, there will only be five."
She surveys the designers. This is a good group, and they've reached the point where eliminations will be hitting the designers with the megawatt talent. Making a mistake here is fatal. There's no more not-quite-as-good designers left to take the brunt.
"This challenge was about creativity in restriction. We asked you to create a look that not only complemented a high-end vehicle, but also pleased your client. We gave you four hundred dollars and one day to put it together."
Another smile, and she turns to face the judges. "Let's meet the judges. CFA Lifetime Achievement Award winner Michael Kors-"
"Hey, guys." Michael nods. He's wearing his usual dark suit jacket over dark shirt. And pants. Pants are key.
"-Fashion director for Mary Claire magazine Nina Garcia-"
Nina is dressed to kill - a fabulous rust-red pair of slacks and a white lace top lined with ivory satin. "Hi."
"-and our very special guest judge." Heidi turns to look off to the side behind Nina.
There is a revving of an engine, then a previously-ignored rusty motorcycle transforms and flips over the stage-hands to land neatly beside Nina. "Hello!"
"Pee-Dee of the Autobots, one of their Earth experts, here to provide an alien eye to fit your clients."
She waits for the shock and amazement to run through the crowd, trying not to smile as she heard a few people speculating over what she meant about the designers' clients. "We'll score your designs as they come down the runway. One of you will be named the winner, and one of you will be out."
With that, she makes her way to her seat beside Michael Kors.
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Post by Mirage on Nov 13, 2011 16:53:03 GMT -5
The usual runway music blares across the grounds, almost drowning out the reactions of the crowd as the white silhouette wall actually parts and a futuristic blue and white racecar rolls slowly onto the runway. The passenger's side door opens and Mirage's dark-skinned model exits and begins to walk down the runway like she's stepping on people's faces, really working the whole look (which Skyblast can describe in detail in his post if he wishes). Mirage follows along beside, careful to keep pace. When they reach the end, the model does her pose as Mirage transforms, they pose together, and then Mirage boosts the model up to stand on his shoulder for the walk back down.
When Christ's look hits the runway, the camera will pan to him looking pleased as punch, and the voiceover will go, "Couldn't be happier. It's... a little costumey, but the client is happy, and that's more important to me right now."
Rodimus's model's gown is an off-the shoulder creation of deep olive and fir greens and rich golds. The architectural flare off the one shoulder is evocative of flames, the pattern crossing along the front of the gown and then spiraling around the gown toward the hem. Christ pieced the lower waterfalls of green and gold in the bottom of the gown so that it also looks like flames. The effect is much like a green alien fire-fairy dancing up from an inferno. There are touches of Rodimus's red tied in as well, in the shoes, the jewelry, the makeup.
OOC: feel free to customize your runway "walk" as you like!
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Post by Rodimus Prime on Nov 16, 2011 22:28:44 GMT -5
Rodimus, fond of flashy entrances as he is, leaps an off-screen ramp, landing neatly at the start of the runway. The model, to her credit, only looks s slightly frazzled as she steps out of the passenger's side. She's recovered completely in time to strut down, showing off the green and gold gown created by Christ. Rodimus rolls along just behind her, positioned so as not to block anyone's view of her. At the end, she leans back against his hood, draped across the sloping front, then she pushes herself off, Rodimus transforms, waves, gives the audience a cocky grin, then lifts the model up, sets her on his shoulder, and walks back. He doesn't really have a proper 'model strut' going, but he does a fine confident stride. Sean grins when his design hits the runway, though it is, perhaps, a restrained grin. The voiceover goes, "I'm a little worried that my client is almost... too easy to please. He just seemed so enthusiastic about... everything that I wasn't really sure if I was playing enough to his tastes or not. But on the other hand, I know outfit looks great, so I'm not that worried." OOC: Rough sketch of the costume. It's in golds and grays, with a few red accents. s15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/Jaylynik/deadzone/?action=view¤t=RunwayOutfit.jpg
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Post by Needlenose on Nov 16, 2011 22:29:05 GMT -5
The sound of a jet engine roars overhead.
Skyblast?
No, no, this one's a Dassault Rafale in grays and purples and blues, a mix that works surprisingly well together.
The jet transforms and Needlensoe touches down, hand rested lightly on one hip, the hip he's using to support his body weight. He glances briefly up the road, as though expecting something (or someone), then goes back to surveying the scene. One antenna is laying back slightly, one is pulled upright, and he snorts.
"Oh. So now the Autobots care about 'frivilous' fashion, hmm?" he purrs out, optics narrowed. He looks at Rodimus Prime. "Shouldn't you people be 'focusing on your war effort'?"
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Post by Bluestreak on Nov 18, 2011 13:14:07 GMT -5
Just before Needlenose's uninvited arrival, the dark gray and black Nissan 280ZX pulls onto the runway and halts. Sean's model, Melissa, steps out of the driver's seat one long leg at a time, showing off a nicely turned ankle or two. She strikes a brief car-show pose against the open door, tossing one side of the cape back, over her shoulder, before leading the procession of car and driver down the catwalk. Melissa uses her hips to advantage, showing off the outfit's asymmetric cut--
As they reach the mid-point of their walk, Needlenose arrives. Unaware that this new arrival isn't another surprise show guest--well he is, just not an invited one, Melissa continues strutting down the walkway--
Until the car behind her softly says, "Change of plans, Melissa. We do the transform and pick-up now, and I mean now, now, now!"
The model smoothly half-turns and leans against the car hood, again deliberately posing very much like a car-show floor model--then steps forward to twirl her dress as Bluestreak transforms. She strikes a very ballerina-like pose and holds it as Bluestreak picks her up and sets her on his shoulder, then sits there, again posing. Melissa is a pro; she keeps her model's smile in place while whispering between her teeth to Bluestreak, "Why the change in plans? Sean is not going to be happy."
Bluestreak glares at Needlenose, and the missile launcher on the shoulder opposite his model elevates slightly, just as a reminder.
"Why are you here, Needlenose? There are no special projects or energy sources here to steal! Go away and don't spoil things for people; they worked very hard on their entries in this contest and if you go and start a big fight, it will ruin things for a bunch of nice people that have nothing to do with you or energy or Cybertron or the war. Aren't you the one that likes art and fashion? If you do, don't start anything," Bluestreak says, half-angry, half-imploring.
-----
Georgia, seated with the other designers, looked surprised when Pee-Dee was unveiled as the surprise guest judge. She throws up her hands and says, "What does an alien space robot know about judging fashion? I have always said the judges were unpredictable, but zis is ridiculous!"
Then Needlenose arrives, and Georgia stares in puzzlement. "Who is zis? Another judge? Late-arriving audience-- Oh, zat does not sound good," she comments when Bluestreak confronts Needlenose. Her fists clench. "He had better not interrupt the show! My outfit is up next, and I have put so much work on it!"
--- Rotation was re-started after Heidi, then? Because Farlane was up after me, but Rodimus posted after Heidi instead, so confused.
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Post by Farlane/Faye Fairlane on Nov 20, 2011 12:10:13 GMT -5
Well, if Georgia was curious about what alien robots knew about fashion, she was probably about to get her answer. It just happened to be in the form of a rather ticked off looking Decepticon jet.
Farlane had been about to drive up and take his position in the cue when the sound of an arriving jet catches him by surprise. Wasn’t Skyblast supposed to come a biiiit later- Oh.
“Slaggit,” the car curses and caaarefully backs up. “You gotta get off a’ me okay, honey?” he murmurs to the model in his driver’s seat who makes a quizzical sound but quickly obeys. Farlane transforms quickly afterwards and scans the skies for any signs of other Decepticons. Georgia will have to deal with being disappointed because the pink mech isn’t going anywhere near Needlenose with a human in tow.
//So, guys. Needlenose is here,// he says conversationally over their radio in case anyone else didn’t see or hear that.
“Uh, Georgia, I really don’t think that’s our biggest problem at the moment,” Sarentino mutters sidelong to the woman, glancing between Needlenose and Bluestreak.
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Post by Mayday/Maddox Wayne on Nov 21, 2011 22:18:32 GMT -5
Mayday's model is already exasperated from dealing with him constantly whimpering and whining when she tries to mount or touch him, despite insisting that he'll be fine when they have to go down the runway. When he starts squealing like a tea kettle and jerking back and forth nervously on his treads, she throws up her hands and struts off to give him room. A lot of room.
//Make him go away!// he says shrilly.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Christopher says, looking a little worried. What was that about big fights and wars? "Is this scripted?"
He hopes it is, because otherwise this is so going ruin everything. They don't really need another guest judge, but this new guy does seem kind of fab...
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Knock Out
Cadet
Relax! He's a doctor.
Posts: 86
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Post by Knock Out on Nov 23, 2011 10:02:50 GMT -5
Needlenose isn't the only Decepticon who has a healthy interest in fashion and art. The other one comes driving down the road Needlenose looked at, making his way to the crowd. There, he transforms, standing just behind the humans, head tilted up and a look of sheer disdain on his face, arms crossed and optic ridge raised in disapproval.
"Oh, this is just pathetic. What are you doing? Are you really lowering yourselves to be props for organics who are so unappealing that they need drapery to make themselves look even slightly presentable? How do you LIVE with yourselves?"
Ohh, are those cameras? Oh, why not! He shifts his pose, just a bit to show off his own curves and panels, the bright sun light brilliantly highlighting his features. See humans? This is true style!
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