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Post by HungryHunter on Nov 21, 2015 19:49:56 GMT
An armored figure holding a broad hat flew Northwest. At 10 times the speed of sound, his small form would be unnoticed to those below. In an instant, the view changed from sea to land and the armor slowed to let its owner take control. Ron woke from his light doze and glanced around. New York lay below him, shining towers tugging at his heartstrings. What had brought him here of all places? He realized the answer as he dove. He only knew he was from the eastern seaboard, so this could be home. He touched down in an alley and the armor withdrew along with another layer of unidentified muck, revealing his filthy jeans and shirt, covered in red sand. He hadn't seen civilization in weeks and he certainly smelled like it. He'd need to find a place to wash off. But first, food. He propped his hat back up on his head and popped open a dumpster. It was his lucky day--mostly fresh.
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Post by Iris on Nov 22, 2015 3:34:00 GMT
The restaurant was high-end. Posh. Extravagant. It's inhabitants equally the same as they posed intimately with the idea of looking mundane, but not personally wanting to be a part of common rabble at all. Their jeans, their shirts, their hairstyles even, all of the imitated the aesthetic of lower class, but their fabrics were name-brand. Silk, satin, Egyptian cotton; designer names and famous labels and brands, something the average individual could only dream of having a wardrobe full of if it wouldn't cost them their entire livelihood in the process. It was among this rabble that Iris found herself dining.
Unlike the people around her, Iris always took advantage of both her wealth and gift and purposely dressed in extravagance. Adorned in an emerald green pencil dress, long white heels adorning her feet to match the white sunglasses perched atop her hair flawlessly held in a bun, each wrist shamelessly displaying an array of shimmering pearls that came in set with the similar choker around her thin throat. Her attire was flawlessly immaculate, not a wrinkle nor smudge to be seen; the only off-putting thing about the glamorous woman was her overbearingly bored expression...and the hideous, patchy bag held tight to her waist.
"Disgusting. How dare they try to pass of this material to me...as if I wouldn't have noticed that this was a pathetic 250 thread count." Her nails clacked against the touch-screen of her high-end phone, the color as jaded as her attitude with the recent deal she'd almost been screwed over with in what could have only been an attempt to lower the cost of her employment. These fools were always the same; perfection came with an absolute price. To add further insult to her, they were wanting her design!
The clack of her heel resounded from her table in a heated crescendo and Iris all but threw her phone into her small purse, the clasp shutting with ferocity even though she had the hideous pouch at her side. Tugging on her white peacoat with fur along the edges and trims, Iris abandoned the pricey panini she'd ordered and she carelessly tossed a tip on her way out.
The intensity of her aura was so potent that passerbys were quick to move out of her way despite knowing why. With her rosy lips pursed as she chewed on the thought of these idiots so much as getting to see her design, Iris tugged her glasses over her eyes with an angered huff and retrieved her phone to make a call to her chauffeur, more so ordering than asking them to pick her up. In an effort to decrease the amount of her wasted, precious time, Iris cut through the alleyway nearest to the restaurant to make her way to the pickup point and what she saw utterly appalled her.
"What are you WEARING." Stumbling upon the grime covered fashion disaster, Iris practically gagged. On top of the filth, his outfit was an utter travesty!!
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Post by HungryHunter on Nov 22, 2015 14:39:05 GMT
Ron jumped away from the dumpster when the richly dressed woman appeared and yelled at him. Was this illegal? Was she going to be a bitch and call the cops on him? It took a second for him to realize her actual words. "Wearing... this is outback gear! What the fuck's your problem!?" He was planning on changing it himself, but he did not need the abuse!
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Post by Iris on Nov 23, 2015 1:09:12 GMT
"My problem is having to see it." Disgust rung high on her tone and she crossed her arms over one another against her chest. Her eyes weren't visible behind the dark shades of her glasses, but it was easy to tell they were scraping his appearance from head to toe. "Shabby...what poor treatment of your cloth. Dirty! That red will never fully wash out, it will forever stain the pigment of the fabric! And those pants. Ugh. I can't even deal with this." Her finely manicured hand rose and she pressed her fingertips against her temples as if getting a headache. "I couldn't live with myself if I let something like this go unchecked..."
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Post by HungryHunter on Nov 23, 2015 4:38:02 GMT
Ron stared in amazement at this astoundingly obnoxious woman. Had he done something to her and just forgot? Was he loosing any more of his mind than before? "I couldn't live with myself if I let something like this go unchecked..." "Then why don't you go die, you whiner!" He fixed her with a glare. Hunger was forgotten when anger was triggered.
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Post by Iris on Nov 26, 2015 23:18:45 GMT
"I might as well with how atrocious that look is." Turning up her nose, Iris withdrew her decorated cellphone once again and was quick to call her chauffer. "Yes, on top of meeting at the typical place, I want you to get a tarp to cover the seats. Why? It's finely aged leather, that's the kind of fabric you simply can't tarnish-oh why am I explaining this to you. Do your job." The click of her nail on the hangup button was loud and pronounced and she simply walked past the dirty boy in rags. "Come now, you're rather lucky, there was a piece I've been working on and the idiots I had created it for dared to provide me with cheap material, so I'll put their cheap material where it belongs." Again, her gaze was pertinent behind the dark lenses of her glasses as she spoke. "You don't look the type that can turn down the offer for free clothes anyways."
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Post by HungryHunter on Nov 28, 2015 23:16:44 GMT
"I'd rather go naked than accept anything from you!" He set his jaw and looked away from her. It was only a few seconds before he grumbled and looked back. "It's free?"
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Post by Iris on Nov 30, 2015 19:56:03 GMT
"I literally just said it was, didn't I? Now hurry, I hate being late." Walking through the other end of the alleyway, it was just the street across where a sleek, but small black car sat idle. The driver door opened and a portly, and rather flustered looking man stepped out, hurriedly opening the door at the site of his rather harsh employer...The back seat, as she'd requested, was lined with a white tarp that the driver had struggled fitting in during such a short time; Iris was infamous for making his job notoriously difficult. He was just supposed to drive her, not fulfill all these weird requests! Holding the door open, the nameless driver lamented before slowly coming down from his anger with the realization that at least he got paid...VERY well.
"Get in, but stay on the tarp. This leather is a piece of art and I'd hate to see it soiled." Stepping in grandly, she brandished herself against the left seat with one grand leg folded over the other while she pushed up her glasses, exposing the sharp, jaded edges of her gaze as she looked at him impatiently. "Time is not something I enjoy wasting, let's get a move on."
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Post by HungryHunter on Dec 1, 2015 5:01:28 GMT
Ron grumbled and slipped into the car. He would be a bit more wary about free rides if he ever had parents to warn him about strangers. Or if he couldn't flip the car with a punch. "Where are we going?" He gave a steady stare to Iris, still wary of her.
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Post by Iris on Dec 18, 2015 17:01:14 GMT
"To my studio. Which is also my home." The car went down its preordained path, stopping in front of a rather posh high-rise where Iris quickly left the vehicle, leaving the door open for Ron while also talking to the driver that was just a bit too slow to get her car door. "When we get in, I insist you take a bath. The material I was given was poor, but it still doesn't deserve to be completely destroyed." With that, she entered the door, passing the greeter without so much as a hello. The inside of the apartment complex was rather elegant, plenty of fleur design and gold trim to go around and there was even a bellhop waiting at the elevators where Iris casually strode past and waited for Ron to catch up.
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Post by HungryHunter on Dec 18, 2015 19:23:35 GMT
Ron grumbled at the suggestion. "In your tub? Perv." In a stranger's house? He supposed he couldn't refuse. He needed it. He was wary entering the hotel. He stood out like a poorly hammered nail. It made him feel like every eye in the room was on him, scrutinizing him. Judging him for his worth. He quickly got into the elevator, away from them. "I'm guessing you live in one of the good rooms?" It made his skin itch that she had such a good life while he was crawling for food in dumpsters and hiding in the wild from cyborgs.
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Post by Iris on Dec 21, 2015 16:01:00 GMT
"Of course I do." Iris replied as if it were simply casual formality. Pressing the elevator's button that lead to her top-floor room, she walked with her same fast-paced stride that always insinuated she had somewhere so much better to be. Popping open the small clasp purse, Iris produced the room key and opened the door into a room that was much less perfect than one would expect.
Everywhere, from ceiling to floor, was simply...fabric. Colors, patterns, textures, they were completely mismatched and haywire! On her couch was a pallet of silk beside a pallet of cotton. On the floor, vibrant acrylic. Even on the ceiling fan who remained turned off for obvious reasons, there was fabric! It was like a fabric store had vomited in her living space and the way she walked over the fabric, careful not to step on it, showed that she was used to such disarray. "Don't move okay, stand right there, let me just..." stooping over, shoving items out of the way, folding bits of clothing and fabric while occasionally taking the time to scrutinize them for a moment too long, Iris plowed a pathway just for him to walk against the carpet that she'd always thought was ugly. "Now, try and be quick, my inspiration is fleeting at times and I'd like to see what bare canvas I have to work with."
When she opened up the door, it seemed only the bathroom was the one thing to escape the tyranny of textile. Inside was a clawfoot tub, stained thoroughly with multiple splotches of color that conglomerated at the drain in a dull, mixed rainbow and the bathroom held an acidic sort of smell, the type you'd find in a hair salon. Lining the edge of the tub were multiple bottles, most all were hair dyes besides a few shampoos and multiple bars of soaps, all of which seemed unnecessarily lush.
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Post by HungryHunter on Dec 21, 2015 17:10:16 GMT
Ron squinted at the ceiling and managed a short chuckle. "And here I thought you were some sort of OCD nut." For all her snobbery she had a messier place than Huntsman. He winced and shoved all thoughts of that monster into his mental garbage chute. The bathroom was better, even with all the bottles lying around and the rainbow staining the tub. Yuck. "Alright, get out so I can clean up." He didn't like what she said about bare canvases. Like hell he was scrubbing in front of her.
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Post by Iris on Jan 17, 2016 16:56:09 GMT
With the closing of the door, Iris went to work pushing aside piles of fabric that seemed particularly piled up. The bodies of silk and suede fell away and revealed a mannequin that had certainly seen better days; it's seams showed multiple colors, hinting at a constant state of repair and from its torn body lay hundreds upon hundreds of needled pinpricks. Thankfully, Iris got to ignore the imperfections as she looked upon the project she'd purposely neglected.
By the time Ron would be finished, Iris was already circling the top that resembled a suit's jacket and behind her trailed strange concoctions of fabric with mismatched legs that wobbled; their bodies were low to the ground and their shape seemed to only be defined by their heads. Two buttoned eyes and a strange, mouthlike orifice with a tongue, if you could call it that, that draped out. The tongue itself was simply a roll of fabric that dragged across the ground while it scuttled backwards behind Iris's feet. In her hands, she held multiple swaths of fabric up to the incomplete coat, thinking hard about what would compliment it most while pushing her hair that had become messy in the the short span back and pinning it up with a needle she had held between her mouth. "They couldn't just give me the Charmeuse...spider silk works, but I rarely get the opportunity to work with vicuna...let alone Charmeuse..."
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Post by HungryHunter on Jan 18, 2016 0:01:52 GMT
Ron folded his filthy clothes by the bath and laid his hat upon the pile. New clothes were nice, but these had their place after a good wash. A few minutes later, he left the murky brown water spiraling down the drain. Carefully covering his whole body in a towel, he leaned out from the bathroom. "I hope you have something just laying around. I'll take anything, really."
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Post by Iris on Mar 13, 2016 4:40:43 GMT
Iris's left hand halted in its workings, her palm facing the figure peeping from the safety of the bathroom's threshold in a gesture that could only mean silence. "I can't concentrate with you talking." Grumbling quietly and incoherently in the moment after that, Iris's heel quickly broke the path of the trembling, trailing creature at her feet, causing it to mindlessly bump again and again into the side of her shoe. Briefly, her face flickered a look that could only be labeled as disgust, but then she leaned down to grab the small thing by its back while its fabric tongue drooled out inch after inch of fabric that seemed to come from thin air. "This color won't do. Your skin tone isn't something I've worked with before...this color will clash."
Her hand wound itself around the fabric and pulled it taught, all while she hissed out a single syllable underneath her breath. In turn, the fabric stopped falling from the creature's mouth and suddenly zipped back inwards as if they were a measuring tape who's button had been pressed. "Anything pastel won't fit you...anything neon will be gaudy. Hm..." Iris re-positioned her hand to hold to the sewn creation's foot. "Leather would be nice." With a careless toss, Iris dropped the pile of plush onto the mound of fabrics at her feet, the small being completely motionless as she began shoving aside more fabrics, stopping only to stand up with one eye visible from beneath her fallen bangs. "What is your opinion on jackets? Do you like them or not?"
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Post by HungryHunter on Mar 13, 2016 5:33:52 GMT
"Jackets? Sure, they're cool. And don't forget I need a hat." Ron had draped one of Iris' hand towels over his scalp, hiding something nestled among his green fluff. "Now come on, gimmie something to put on while I wait for your slug fingers to finish making something. I'm not standing around a strange woman's house nude. And of strange women I've met, you're number 2 on the weird and untrustworthy list." He tapped his damp foot in impatience on her bathroom floor, giving her little fabric critter an odd look.
It reminded him all too much of the failed experiments he sometimes saw at Flipside. Fleshy little things mindlessly milling in their enclosures, always gone within a week. It made him shudder, tilting the hand towel perched on his head. He grabbed up at it, releasing the towel over his torso. He went pale, then red within a second of each other. Reflexively, a white sort of gunk flowed from his pores, becoming an odd solid over his body. It was less than a second before he was clad in what resembled some sort of skintight suit with orange highlights, including boots and gloves so he was totally covered from the neck down. Still, its tight nature was revealing in all the wrong ways. His breasts were small, but distinct, and even a lean figure was a figure. He made a little gurgle and grabbed the towel, draping it over the suit to hide it, just in case it could be played off as a trick of the eye, rather than a sight that anatomy and psychology were not in agreement.
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Post by Iris on Mar 13, 2016 20:03:53 GMT
"A hat...this will make for an aesthetic mashup to fit your rather frugal lifestyle. The appearance of organized dishevelment." With a flourish, Iris pulled her arm back and in it was a swathe of finely pressed leather, its hue a faint tan. Draping it over the pin-cushioned mannequin, Iris kicked her heel back lightly to clip the small, lifeless doll and propel it just slightly into the air; her arm grasped at the plush immediately and from the pouch around her waist, she produced a strangely ornate piece of scissors. With a few quick clicks of the decorated metal, Iris clipped away at a few of the golden strands along the creature's stomach where she then placed her scissors back within the pouch, producing instead a fine thread attached to needle on her hand's reemergence. In a few short movements that were almost too fast for the human eye to see, she had sewn a new sigil in place of the last and hissed another syllable beneath her breath; life seemed to breathe its way back into the creature and it opened its odd mouth once again, but a new fabric began to spill from its orifice and the orange of the cotton-like material poured gently onto the floor.
"I'd be insulted at your insinuation of my fingers being slow, but I don't think someone who wears what you did gets to hold any validity in their commentary towards me. Besides, it's simply not true." With her needle clipping the leather fabric from earlier into the mannequin, Iris reached towards her main table of work and pulled from it a scarlet scarf, draping it over her shoulders while speaking her babble once more. All at once, the small flaps at the ends of her scarf twitched then rose, resembling strange hands as they grasped at nothingness in the air, awaiting their one tool to allow their purpose. Needle back in one hand, the other shifting through the ugly pouch on her hip, Iris produced the worn measuring tape and gave one quick nod of her head towards where Ron stood; the scarlet, fabric hands seemed enthused at their task and stretched from along her neck towards him. "I need your measurements."
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Post by HungryHunter on Mar 13, 2016 21:22:08 GMT
Ron had dreaded this since he stepped into the apartment. The carapace showed no skin at the very least. He reluctantly stepped forward and dropped the towel, showing his white and orange second skin. "Make it quick. I don't like being fondled by fabric." He growled, stepping into the range of the creepy grasping hands. He kept the hand towel where it was. His sex was nothing compared to what that covered.
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Post by Iris on Mar 19, 2016 14:46:33 GMT
At the drop of the towel, Iris snapped her fingers and the grasping hands paused all together. The end of the measuring tape wafted slightly as the motion from earlier still carried the thin material and Iris walked forward with her eyes narrowed. With a gaze like knife across warm butter, she scraped her sights along the second skin Ron showed before her gaze immediately softened. "Where was this hiding all the time? You wore that disgusting filth while you had this on?!" Immediately, instead of the red scarf's probing hands, Iris was touching along the base of Ron's arms as she admired the spectacular fit of the bright suit. "It's like it was made for you, every inch of this fabric holds your body like...a second skin! That's quite brilliant work, not much fabric can do such a thing. Actually..." Iris pressed her palm against her cheek, the bright white of her nails practically neon against her skin as she looked genuinely surprised and perplexed. "What kind of fabric is this? I've never encountered something like it before..."
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