[Mini-Mingle] A Shopping Trip

[henchgal]

Given that those who're staying at the ADI housing are getting a clothing allowance, Meredith has taken it upon herself to organize a shopping trip to the Marshalls at Gloucester Crossing. The store is full of surprising deals, and a wide enough variety of clothing that people of all genders might find something interesting. There's even some of the new fall selections in stock already.

While Meredith's been sure to grab those who obviously need a little help, and those who'll obviously enjoy the chance to get out of ADI territory, everyone's welcome to come along for the trip.

(ooc: feel free to tag around with one another as well as me, this is just a fun way to introduce our characters to one another)

Comments

[ployboy]

His hands come up instinctively, and he even has the good grace to look apologetic. Thankfully, all he has is a pair of jeans hanging from his arm and nothing is at risk for clattering to the floor. Which is good. The floor's sticky sometimes. "Point. Do you think anyone would mind if I go around dressed in a trenchcoat fedora? Do they sell that here?"

[henchgal]

"You'll look like the Midnight Detective if you do that, but knock yourself out." She gestures vaguely toward the outerwear section.

"Just don't grab a trilby when you're looking for a fedora."

[ployboy]

Tim turns to where she points, immediately pulling a face. Why are there fluffy jackets. It's summer. More specifically, it's-- well, anyway.

"Sorry, who? The Midnight Detective?" And here he had been, a fool, fantasizing about '40s noir flicks and lamenting the gross lack of Green Lantern or Booster Gold graphic tees. Tim shoots Meredith a pleading sort of look. He knows he's being a pain, but being a pain in someone's side is a good distraction.

He's only somewhat sorry.

"Who's his arch nemesis? Le Femme Fatale? Blackjack? Poker Face?"

[henchgal]

"The Torch Singer and the Five Diamond Gang, but close." She lets out a bit of a laugh. "So close enough, honestly."

[ployboy]

Five Diamond Gang sounds pretty dope, much classier than, say, Golden Dragons. Tim's lip quirks up in a small smile. It drops a moment later, and he runs a hand through his hair. These are... real people, to her. The realization is transparent. "Guess I shouldn't be giving kudos on cool names," he says. "I worked trying to prevent gang activity from spreading back home. It wouldn't be a good look on me."

Like, getting caught making out with a gang leader hadn't been the greatest look either. But that's... irrelevant. "Not that it seems like anyone recognizes me here."

[henchgal]

"When you say 'gang activity', do you mean normal street gangs, or are you dealing with the costumed sort too?" The question is oh-so-casual, but Meredith's shoulders hold more tension than he might expect. "The Five Diamond Gang is pretty small on the power scale, but they're still supervillains."

[ployboy]

What is 'normal' anyway.

The people around them all seem pretty normal. Do they know, sense, or fear an impending Apocalypse? Are any of them meta-human?

"I mean like, keeping kids off the streets," he explains. "I'm sure there's bands of super-powered people forming their own groups."

Boy, is he ever sure of that. But this is his camera-ready voice, clear and steady and studied.

"But Gotham has a lot of problems and outside of recruitment from the heavy hitters it seems like there's just a lot of... hostility to go around even among us normal humans. It's not exclusive to one group or another."

--and he chews the inside of his cheek, because he's here to keep things light. He's failing.

He leans on Meredith's cart again. "Help me find a fedora and then I'll get out of your hair."

[henchgal]

"Who says I want you out of my hair, Tim?"

After all, there's a reason these two asked to be roommates. There's a reason she invited him on this shopping trip. There's a reason Meredith hasn't gone out of her way to go answering-the-phone cold impersonal on him.

He's awfully young, isn't he? Not just to be world-napped, but to be the sort of person who's thinking deeply about gang violence and how hostile the world can be.

She starts rolling the cart toward a display of hats, regardless.

[ployboy]

Tim levels her with a quiet sort of thanks, and he obediently follows.

"You will. I'm nixing the trenchcoat because I figure I can hold out until the fall when it actually rains, if we're doomed to stick around that long."

Still not doing too hot on keeping the talk light and cheery. Christ, Drake, get it together. He says something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like oh god they do sell hats here. He's learning. Be gentle.

"I can just get a pipe to finish off that cliche detective look I'm going for."

[henchgal]

"You're too young to smoke. And it's bad for you."

Nevermind that she slips out to the patio for the regular cigarette when she thinks he's not paying attention. Her hypocrisy is legal. Him smoking wouldn't be.

[ployboy]

Meanwhile he ponders a fanny pack. It's a sports brand and very obviously cheap plastic. It's neon green. Tim thinks, hey, he does need a wallet if they're going to be paid under the table in cash.

He shakes his head and puts on a baseball team's ballcap. He is not, never has been, never will be interested in smoking. But.

"I can totally buy a pipe. They've got to be less than fifty dollars, right? It's the 19th."

...oh. He knew that. It still feels-- it's not pleasant. Anxiety rushes his chest. Or something. Tim pulls off and examines the cap, and into the cart it goes. He gives himself a second. And smiles. "That means I'm eighteen today."

[henchgal]

There's a startled look on Meredith's face at that announcement. And then she adjusts--of course, people would end up celebrating birthdays and anniversaries and other landmarks in the vast expanse of time, while they're here.

She just has to figure out how to mark it for him, make up for the fact that he's here with her and Malcolm, not with his dad and whoever else he calls family.

"I'll have to save some cash to get you a cake on the way home. Or maybe ice cream and some toppings. What do you think?"

[ployboy]

It gives him some satisfaction, he thinks, to see Meredith falter like that. He's kept himself steady, hands on the cart again to keep from honestly fidgeting. This isn't the first time he lets the significance of the date wash over him; the early morning had been fun.

'Fun' meaning he had stared at the four walls of his room and just

but then Meredith had dragged him and a sizable portion of ADI to Marshalls.

And now here they are.

There's goosebumps under the sleeves of his shirt. His smile grows tighter, but that's fair. Right? "Nah," he says. There's a... small panic. Is that rude? Is he being rude? "Thanks, but your gift to me is to to find me that fedora."

[henchgal]

A look of determination comes to Meredith's face as she moves to the hat section and begins to look for a proper...

"Alright, Tim, come here."

...hat.