695/Just A Little Get Together

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Just A Little Get Together
Date of Scene: 30 May 2017
Location: New York City
Synopsis: People meet but they don't always get along.
Cast of Characters: Negasonic Teenage Warhead, Little Blackhawk, Athenaeum




Negasonic Teenage Warhead has posed:
Ellie has snuck her way out of the school in Westchester for a little bit of 'do whatever I want' around New York City. What she wants to do is check out new stuff at the Hot Topic in Manhattan Mall, call it an impromptu field trip to a place that got stuff that isn't entirely lameo for a change of pace. Salem Center just happens to have the WORST shops. It's been scientifically proven by several expeditions already.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
Elliot is probably the last prson that Ellie wants to see today, much less be forced to share a name with. She's the typical too perky blonde with wide blue eyes and a glittering, perfect smile. The only thing that is out of the ordinary is the long streak of azure through her otherwise perfectly corn blonde tresses. The girl is dressed in a white knit sweater, open in front, a long sleeved shirt that proclaims her to be a member of the CUNY Athletic Conference cheer squad, and floral print skirt. The autumn colours work for her somehow, even with the heavy dose of burgundy involved. Elliot bounces slightly while she regards a rack full of albums by bands of all stripes. She's checking out a 'Cradle of Filth' album. Yeah, right. Sure she is.

Really, Elliot looks confused.

Negasonic Teenage Warhead has posed:
There's a sort of crowd one expects to see at a Hot Topic, from those who are fully fledged goths, those who have affinity with the lifestyle, and then there are those who look like they stumbled into the store by mistake. Ellie for once isn't checking out the chained leather pants across the aisle from her, nor the mesh top with spikey shoulders, instead she's staring directly at Elliot. "Wow, that hair dye is pretty hard core," she mocks rather openly. The girl clearly looks like your typical Barbie styled cheerleader. Certainly not like somone Ellie should ever have to meet in her favorite store. It's bad enough to meet girls like her in school.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
"Hard? No, it wasn't hard. I mean, the dye is right there." Elliot sounds so genuine and guileless it is hard to believe that she coudl be anything other than perfectly serious. The girl blinks as she turns to affix that blue-eyed gaze on Ellie. Yes, Elliot went to the trouble of making sure the dye matched her eyes perfectly. Dedication. "Hi! My name is Elliot. Or... Ellie."

The words are uttered with such effervescent enthusiasm that it might actually emphasize the gravity of the naming confluence being evidenced here. "Have you had problem with hair dyes? Because it can be kind of hard with dark hair..." She tilts her head slightly as she speaks but keeps the Cradle of Filth album in hand as she shifts away from the rack in question.

Ellie's made a friend. Good for Ellie!

Negasonic Teenage Warhead has posed:
"Sure it is...so you're saying it's soft core, then?" Ellie snorts, wondering what's wrong with blonde. Maybe she got it hit on the head, or is just overwhelmed with the selection. But then she introduces herself, and Ellie's face grows sour, "you gotta be fucking shitting me," she groans as if in physical pain, pressing a finger into her temple and shaking her head.

Asked about problems with hair dye, Ellie points at her shorn head, her Sinead O'Connor-like buzz cut, and smirks, "might be hard to tell, but I'm not really who hair product people sell to, see?" Glancing at the album Elliot is reaching for, she snorts, "isn't My Little Pony soundtrack more up your speed?"

Athenaeum has posed:
Malls. The modern propensity for purchasing a prolific selection of paltry goods never ceases to amaze the magician that's decided that a new dress might well be a good idea. Several local events have needed her to dust off a wardrobe that long since should have been mothballs years (if not decades) ago. Lacking a local seamstress, the snow-white skinned woman has decided to risk a trip out to one she'd heard of.

For this outing, Ysabelle is dressed in a full length dress of deep red with burgandy slashes in the skirts. Covering from neck to floor, the dress has boning in the bodice, snug next to her skin before loosening at the hips. A deep hood hides all but her dark burgandy lips and lily white soft cheeks and chin.

Hot Topic had /sounded/ like a place to look at modern dresses, but the more she looked through the isles, the chains and studs and mesh, the more she was realising that this was not the place she needed to be. With two young women looking like polar opposites appearing before her, the opportunity to fact find was too good to miss. Opening her mouth, she talks in an accent that sounds Western European, without seeming to come from any specific country therein. "Excuse me ladies, would you happen to know where I might be able to purchase a modern dress?" She is of course, standing besides a rail of black, purple and red mini-dresses that would give a belt a run for it's money...

Little Blackhawk has posed:
"Soft... Core? What?" Elliot is actually mouthing back the words that Ellie is speaking and then she lifts a hand to cup her ear. Afterward she slowly shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not following you. We're talking about my hair, right?"

Then the topic turns back to hair and Elliot is quick to say, "You could have tried before you got the shave. I don't know. You might try after you grow it back. You know, some times dye jobs go really wrong and it's easier to cut it all off." Elliot shrugs her shoulders at this and then glances at the album she is holding.

"Ponies? ...Pretty sure Cradle of Filth is more Goth lit, horror, and making my grandmother think I worship the Devil! I don't think they do the ponies thing." A blink follows, then Elliot shrugs. Clearly Ellie isn't up on her Black Metal.

Then Ysabelle says the magic words. "Oh..." A beat. "Dresses? Well! There's the American Eagle a little further down the way..." Elliot, of course, knos where all the best stores are. Why wouldn't she?

Negasonic Teenage Warhead has posed:
Ellie turns her head ever so slightly to acknowledge Ysabelle, staring at her as if she just fell out from outerspace, and then points at the rack of sexy dresses behind her. Purple, black, some with chains, some with skull prints, some with Hello Kitty dressed for a funeral, but for the most part, they're all as farthest as you can get from modest. "Those are all modern." She offers helpfully, before veering her eyes unto Elliot.

"Oh yeah, your hair, you thought of that wicked smurfette streak by yourself?" She snorts at the suggestion she shaved her head due to a botched dye job, "sure, I wanted Barbie blonde like yours, and it came out vomit green instead, so I had to buzz it all down. Always happens." She rolls her eyes, clearly not being serious. "Oh, you mean they don't have a song about Letting Go in their album?" Not that Ellie is a follower of Disney, as much as "Let It Go" was the devil and you couldn't escape from hearing that song for the longest time. When Elliot offers her two bit of help to Ysabelle, Ellie offers on top of it, "you could take Human Catalogue with you...sure she'll be a great help finding all the best cosmetics too."

Athenaeum has posed:
"I make my own cosmetics." Ysabelle comments calmly to the one woman firecracker. To her credit, she does actually at least /look/ at the rack suggested by the teen, but turns back shaking her head. "I think these are for women younger than I. Perhaps something that actually covers, rather than pretending to?" Fingers the colour of new cream pick at the nearest one. "And they're not exactly well made..." She looks at the price tag, the hood hiding her face shifting this way and that, indicating the shaking of her head.

"Thank you though Miss, I appreciate the attempt." If she'd picked up on Ellie's snark, it doesn't show in her voice. Ysabelle's attention shifts to the older of the two El's in the room. "I'm not aquainted with the area I'm afraid, is American Eagle a little more respectful?" She does continue to keep her posture in such a way that both women are still included in the conversation, after all, it's only polite.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. American Eagle is definitely perfect for squares," Elliot offers helpfully. "My mom would shop there. If you want to look 'respectable' on a budget it's a good place to start!" Elliot nods firmly, still clutching her music fairly close to her chest.

"Right, okay. I caught the 'vomit' bit loud and clear," Elliot responds seriously, watching Ellie once more as she tilts her head slightly and again lifts her hand to briefly cup it against her ear. "Anyway. Is there aproblem here or is it just that I'm blonde and don't wear clothes you like?" A beat follows as Elliot adds, "Unless you're really hoping Cradle of Filth did a cover of 'Let It Go' in an attempt to make it halfway decent. Not sure it can be done!"

Somehow, Elliot is still smiling.

Negasonic Teenage Warhead has posed:
"Oh, you do!? Wow! Fuck me that's special!" Ellie lets out a feigned impressed whistle towards Ysabelle. Making one's own cosmetics, can it get any more boring? She quirks a brow when Ysabelle suggests the dresses Ellie pointed were for younger girls, and quips, "you're only as old as you feel." Though admittedly, she felt over 21 a few times and it still didn't help her sneak into a bar. Shrugging at the suggestion the dresses are too skimpy, and not well made, Ellie remarks, "can always go with pants, if you're a prude."

Hearing that 'respectful' is the flavor Ysabelle is after, Ellie mutters mostly to herself, albeit not too quietly, "could have gone to Nuns R Us, or Don't Ever Date Me on the first floor..." she nods along with Elliot's affirmation of the American Eagle suggestion, "yeah, she knows all about squares, you can count on her." Then Elliot has to show how clever she is, getting all those subtle dissing coming out of Ellie, but she just shrugs, "what can I say? Don't go to the ENT, your hearing is fucking fine." She then pulls out her smartphone, and her eyes sink to the screen for a moment, <Met Smurfette at Hot Topic in MH Mall. She got claws yo. #ThugBarbie>

Athenaeum has posed:
Ysabelle frowns quietly. "/Trousers/ are for men. And I haven't had to wear divided skirts since I stopped needing to ride everywhere." Oh yes, 'respectful' doesn't quite cut it does it? The young looking woman is starting to sound so square she's a cube! "I suppose manners went the same way as cloth seems to have; far more expensive than most seem able to afford." Was that an insult, or an observation? It could go either way...

Turning to put herself side on to tweetie bird, the Lady in red directs her next comment to Barbie instead. "Expense isn't so much the concern as quality. I seem to be getting more and more invites to events since I've been noticed and I am running out of things to wear. As it seems seamstresses are as rare as rocking horse manure, it was suggested I come and look here." The hood rises, a flash of turquoise glints from the area where her eyes should be as the light penetrates deeper into it's confines. "I am starting to think I have been swindled."

Little Blackhawk has posed:
Elliot doesn't really have to catch subtle barbs and sarcasm to get that Ellie is constantly ragging on her. She'd have to have grown up on another planet- or else actually be deaf. She glances at the phone that Ellie is holding and then shrugs, tilting her head as she does. "What- can I..." She shakes her head, ending up touching her ear one moe time. Then the blonde produces her own phone. She doesn't start texting or post on twitter, however, she holds the phone up like it's a microphone.

"Divided skirts and... seamstresses and... What? I'm sorry. Could you repeat that? I'm not- following... What was that about pigs and horses?" Swine. Swindled. Close enough. "Some of the stores are better than others. Um..."

To her phone Elliot adds, "Met girl with awesome buzzcut. Successfully understood nothing she says and got the point anyway. Will probably make sense on review." To Ysabelle she continues with, "What were you looking for- precisely...?"

Negasonic Teenage Warhead has posed:
Ellie laughs as Ysabelle says quite honestly that /trousers/ as it were, are for men. She can't help it, she was caught off guard, her laughter is of the hysterical variety, "oh my god, you're priceless, look," she points down at her legs, sure it's leggings, but it's all the same. "I can wear these and be a girl. I can wear freakin' jeans and be a girl. Heck, I could wear a loser suit, and still be a girl. There's no rules that say only men get to wear pants, and if there are, they can suck it." Then comes Ysabelle's stinging remark, and Ellie's laughter feat comes to an abrupt end. Not because she's shocked and offended, but more like, she's shocked she actually heard it. In real life. The woman was a Jane Austen character that Ellie never read for a book report.

"Oh you think you're so cool gossiping to Siri or Cortana or ISuckAssistant about me? I'm really hurt dude," Ellie quips at Elliot, before she adds another quick twit about the other person she met today. <MH Mall HotTopic weirdness. Met time travelling nun. #MaryPoppinsInRealLife>

Athenaeum has posed:
Ysabelle does look, if only to follow the pointing finger. The leggings, a second skin really, seem scandalous to her sensibilities, but at the same time, she's not /that/ out of the loop that she doesn't know that the female revolution happened. Still, her frown is schooled to a smooth, serene lack of expression. "Just because something /can/ be done, doesn't mean it /should/ be done. I am aware many women fought for the right to be able to wear what they like, and for that I believe you should be greatful." A pause, long enough for Ysabelle to place her hands together, resting them against her lower abdomen... Just like a nun.

"However, some things were around for a reason. However long forgotten." And that, it seems, is all the woman wants to say on the matter. The smart phones do catch her attention, and the way the blonde woman is just /talking/ to it especially. The look of surprise is thankfully hidden by the hood; "Ah, yes. I am looking for a seamstress that makes a variety of gowns, high quality and preferrably able to work with lace as well." She pauses, that small frown of consternation returning. "No, wait, they don't ask that anymore do they. Perhaps just a good female tailor? Languge is such a fluid thing isn't it?" And then there's a flush as she realises something. "Oh my! My manners are lacking, I am Ysabelle Orion." A slender hand is offered first to Elliot, and then, surprisingly, Ellie.

Little Blackhawk has posed:
Elliot hits a couple buttons. The phone actually plays back aloud, "Oh, you think you're so cool? ...." She frowns and then reaches into a pocket and produces an earpiece and tucks it carefully into her right ear. Not the one she was cupping, notably. "Right. Okay." To Ysabelle Elliot offers helpfully, "Really, it seems like people are being charged more money the less cloth they wear. Like some sort of inverse fashion law."

The girl takes the offered hand from Ysabelle and then a deep breath, looking between the two in front of her with some care. "Elliot Reed," the girl responds quietly. Then to Ellie she adds, "Why would I think I'm... Cool?" A blank look follows. "The recording has nothing to do with you at all really. I just thought your buzzcut was cute."

Yes. Barbie approves of the Sinead O'Connor look. Really.

Negasonic Teenage Warhead has posed:
Ellie still has the expression of someone who walked into a movie that was vastly different from the one they actually got tickets for, like one of those things were Frozen is showing instead of Underworld. Not that Underworld is quality, but you get the difference in tone. "I get it, just because I can kick Smurfette's ass over there, doesn't mean I should, and I'm totally not doing it. That's how nice I am." So...was that a threat, insult, or compliment? Either way, at least she agreed with Ysabelle on something. She also accept the meaning of the women's fight for rights, to, basically everything? "I know, I know, if I could time travel like you, I would go back and kick some misogny out of people's asses. They'd love me in whatever period women were considered furniture, or whatevs." She does offer one last quip at Ysabelle as she mentions looking for a seamstress for gowns and stuff. "Try Disney, they got Mary Poppins hooked, they got Snow White hooked, every frilly little dress you ever dreamed of, they do that shit right."

When a hand is extended towards her, Ellie smacks her fingerless gloved hand hard into Ysabelle's hand, a sort of a low-five. "I'm sorry to say but Smurfette there stole my name, so you get hers, you get mine."

When Elliot quips back at her, Ellie has to look up from her phone, twice. Just to make sure it really happened, and she didn't accidently inhale some smoke from a druggie nearby. "Yeah? I can help you get one if you like it, I'm real good at it too, save you a fortune on gayass hairdressers who charge, well, a fortunte."

Athenaeum has posed:
"Exactly." Ysabelle agrees with Sinead with a smile. "Disney is a little... Ostentatious for my tastes. Besides, who needs a prince to come and save them in this day and age hmm?" Certainly none of the women standing here, she's sure. Ysabelle somehow manages to keep from flexing her hand after the hard low five, even as her paper white skin begins to turn a soft shade of pink thanks to the impact.

"We all travel through time dear, it's just that we're constantly moving /forward/." A pause, a smirk. "Even I don't mess with /those/ sorts of laws these days. The cost is always just too great." An honest to goodness shudder runs through the short woman's frame. Finally, her hood returns back to Elliot. "Does your phone tell you anything about a seamstress? If not, I suppose I'll have to look further afield..."