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Post by SceneMod on Apr 16, 2010 18:08:17 GMT -5
Pyrite replies briskly, in a flat voice, "I'll buy it myself."
He then presses inside.
The store is fairly professionally laid out, with an effort put in toward tidiness. There are no cheap wigs, no kiddy costumes here, just professional actors' supplies... and a small sign on the counter, next to the register, saying 'ask about stage blood special after dark'.
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Post by Mirage on Apr 18, 2010 19:19:40 GMT -5
"What?" Mirage asks, expression surprised," But...no, you said you didn't-."
Mirage's words die on his lips as Pyrite heads inside. -have much money was what the spy was trying to say. Mirage frowns. And Pyrite sounded so...well, Mirage could just be paranoid after the whole blow up with Rodimus, but Mirage is hoping he hasn't unknowingly insulted the Rock Lord.
He follows Pyrite in close enough to most likely make it clear that the two are together, though Mirage steps almost immediately to the right, surveying the shop from a standpoint that allows him to keep his back to wall- at least until he takes the places measure.
He doesn't speak, waiting for Pyrite to handle things. Once they have what they came for, Mirage will make certain to reimburse Pyrite his expense. In some manner.
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 18, 2010 19:30:00 GMT -5
"I can't afford a private eye. I can afford a belt. Here, anyway," Pyrite says, words still clipped and exacting.
He seems to know just where he's going and finds a rack of belts, different sizes, widths, colours, and materials. The materials themselves are a bit low quality, mostly mock, but they look good enough to the untrained eye. it's all stage magic, razzle dazzle. Mostly importantly, there is a clip in the back, sturdy enough to keep the belt in one piece during normal wear but designed so that the belt tears off easily, without damage, in a rush.
The shop keeper is a pleasant but eccentric looking young man, something like a cardinal bird. He has dyed his head crest bright purple, and his beak is pierced. He's wearing something like a Shakespearean outfit, probably as advertising. He looks over at Mirage, then over at Pyrite, and looks puzzled, but he doesn't say anything.
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Post by Mirage on Apr 18, 2010 19:55:44 GMT -5
Mirage's lips purse in a frown that's gone almost before one could blink, then he steps over to where Pyrite is making his selection.
"This is the thing then?" he asks softly, "Interesting. Reminds me in a a way of some...interesting accouterments that an old friend favored." Mirage's voice is light and musing. He tries to gently place a hand at the Rock Lord's waist and tilts his head down, lips perhaps very close to the side of Pyrite's head.
"Did I say something to upset you?" Mirage murmurs, "I have recently had it pointed out that my attitude is... easily misconstrued. I hope you are not thinking ill of me."
His head turns toward the counter and its brightly colored clerk. His gaze wanders over the sign, and the spy's expression grows puzzled.
"I thought your comments about 'stage blood' referred to actors such as yourself. But the phrasing there- it indicates it is a commodity?"
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 18, 2010 20:08:23 GMT -5
"Mm. Don't suppose you know your hip size?" Pyrite asks, sounding a bit distracted. "No, of course not." He holds up a black belt that looks to be patent leather (though it probably isn't) and tries to estimate if it'll serve to keep Mirage's pants up.
This basically means that he's trying to get an arm around Mirage's waist, just after Mirage put his hand on Pyrite's hip.
This would look really awkward to an outside observer.
Skipping over any talk of Mirage's attitude, Pyrite explains, "Ah. Yeah. For faking injuries and the like. Tastes like menthol. Usually. Can't say it's an area where I appreciate much realism."
The shop keeper's head tilts to the side a bit, and he busies himself tidying the counter.
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Post by Mirage on Apr 18, 2010 20:37:05 GMT -5
"Hip size?" Mirage asks, still puzzled, as he looks down at the arm encircling his waist, "My build specs, you mean?" He rattles off a few numbers, none of which are probably actually useful when shopping for clothes.
Mirage seems perfectly at ease, even in his puzzlement. Perhaps now that Pyrite is touching him, the Rock Lord might notice that Mirage's body is not as relaxed as it seems, though this has nothing to do with Pyrite's getting up close and personal with Mirage.
The spy's brow furrows and he makes a face, "I don't think I wish to ponder exactly why the cost-and quality- goes down after dark."
Then Mirage smiles down at Pyrite, and his tone turns a bit coy, "You're decent enough at misdirection, my dear- but you're avoiding my question." Actually, Pyrite has danced around a lot of subjects during their time together, but Mirage isn't bringing that up.
Yet.
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 22, 2010 22:04:41 GMT -5
"...no, that's not what I meant at all," Pyrite murmurs, sighing. He doesn't touch Mirage took much, since Mirage does seem oddly tense to the touch. Quickly enough, he thinks he has Mirage sized - have to be fast in figuring out what costumes might fit a new member of the company, after all, though costumes weren't ever his area of oversight.
Pyrite did props, before he was an actor.
(Often, Pyrite was props.)
"Mm, no, I don't think you want to think about..." His lips press together but do not quite make a frown. "You are quite above my social standing. I beg your... tolerance." The lines are delivered perfectly, and yet, there's something hollow about the execution, something off in the timing.
So yes, Pyrite is a little miffed, but he's trying to maintain appearances, he really is, and Mirage makes that awfully hard.
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Post by Mirage on Apr 22, 2010 23:31:22 GMT -5
Mirage's brow furrows. "I am much above most people's station; I'm quite used to dealing with those who are of lesser birth. Even more so now. You needn't beg me for anything, and you are much more than simply tolerable." The spy sounds honestly confused as to what Pyrite considers to be the problem. Mirage thinks he's treated the Rock Lord quite well, he really does.
He doesn't consider that his deriding comments about the area and the establishment could be extrapolated as insulting to Pyrite. Mirage considers himself to be merely stating fact.
Poor Mirage. He has come so far in his attitude, and yet he is still an insufferable jackaft by accident.
He is not an oblivious jackaft, however, and he can tell that Pyrite is upset. The hand at the Rock Lord's waist slides to the small of the back, Mirage's fingers massaging small circles there. Mirage may not understand why Pyrite is upset, but he can try to comfort him as much as he can.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you, I truly don't," he murmurs, then looks back at the belts. He tries to change the subject, "So have you decided what suits me?"
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 23, 2010 12:14:16 GMT -5
"It must be so hard on you, having to strain your neck to look down on us peons," Pyrite replies, perhaps just a whiff of bitter almonds, cloying, in his sweet tone.
Then, he stiffens as Mirage touches the small of his back, and his expression is rather hard to read, but he's definitely... embarrassed.
Grateful for the change in subject, Pyrite static-coughs and says, rather loudly, "Ah, yes. I think this will do." He holds up a belt of suitable colour to match Mirage's attire, a proper length, and he demonstrates how the safety-release catch in the back works.
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Post by Mirage on Apr 23, 2010 14:49:27 GMT -5
Pyrite's careful snark earns a sharp frown from Mirage. The spy's hand stills, but does not immediately fall away.
Mirage is sure he isn't that stuck-up.
Is he?
"Hmm, it looks suitable to me." He reaches out to try and take the belt from Pyrite, examining the clasp and swift release mechanism. This gives him an excuse to remove his hand from Pyrite's back without it seeming like a slight. "It's a good suggestion; I don't anticipate having to do quick changes," he can disappear in a pinch, after all, "but better to be prepared for all eventualities. Thank you."
Mirage's expression is now schooled into careful neutrality- which for him means he looks a shade haughty. Seriously, he simply can't be as bad as Rodimus and Pyrite are making out.
Can he?
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 24, 2010 20:35:47 GMT -5
"It's nothing," Pyrite lies. Pyrite tries to take the belt back, then, since it appears to be satisfactory, and he briskly tries to move to the counter to pay for it, as he had threatened to do so prior.
Haughty, naive outsider... and yet, Pyrite can't help but feel guilty.
Luckily, his back is turned to Mirage by now.
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Post by Mirage on Apr 24, 2010 21:41:20 GMT -5
Perhaps, if Mirage were a bit older and had come from a point further along in his timeline, he wouldn't be so naive about all of this.
As it is, while it has occurred to him (too late, really) that this entire thing could be a setup of some sort, he has for the most part dismissed such worries. After all, it is hard to argue with the fact that they did find Pyrite running naked down the street from thugs, and that he was almost fatally shot. Mirage and Rodimus saved the Rock Lord's life, so why would Pyrite create such an elaborate lie, when a much smaller one would have gotten them out of his metaphorical hair? And other than money and the Ego to End (almost- Sentinel is still around) All Egos, Mirage has shown no other assets which would make him a valuable commodity.
He doesn't stop Pyrite from paying for the belt. While the actor's back is turned, however, Mirage's expression falls into one of self-reflection and worry. It's the closest he's been in a long while to actually fretting as he considers the previous exchange.
Is he really that bad?
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 24, 2010 21:56:48 GMT -5
Pyrite slides over the credits silently, but the shopkeeper actually laughs, a tweeting sort of noise, and he sputters, "You're actually good for the price?"
Pyrite sulks, "I don't always put things on tab." Gee thanks for embarrassing him in front of Mirage!
"Teh-teh," twitters the avian in amusement. "And the desert's not always dry." But still, he crows, scoops up the credits, bags the belt, and hands it back to Pyrite.
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Post by Mirage on Apr 24, 2010 23:26:26 GMT -5
Mirage is jerked out of his self-examination by the clerk's comments. He frowns. If Pyrite always uses credit, then how does he have the funds to pay for this now? Of course, the clerk could be exaggerating just to needle the poor robot.
This does reinforce Mirage's intention of reimbursing Pyrite the belt's price, however.
By the time Pyrite turns back around, Mirage is back to that pleasant not-quite-bored expression he has worn for most of their encounter. He's even managed to get most of the arrogance out of his countenance. Not all, of course, but it is a valiant try.
"All ready, then?" he asks.
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 25, 2010 12:16:45 GMT -5
Pyrite attempts to hand the bagged belt off to Mirage and replies, "Yes, I think so. The cuff-links next, then?"
The shopkeeper's head tilts a bit more, and as an avian, it can tilt quite a far ways, as Pyrite tries to hand off the belt. Why does he feel like he's watching some sort of drug deal gone horribly wrong? Are belts the new hot smokeable item? And does he even really want to know?
But Pyrite's already headed toward the door.
Skip to cuff-link territory?
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