[/classy][classy=lyrics]i'll be your boring horror
i'll be your glorious mirror. i don't know how you look away.
[/classy][classy=butts]Alex doesn't get it. He really doesn't. Maybe it's because he's been locked up in his house and homeschoooled his entire life and thus has no idea of what social norms should be, but when people walk in embarrassed about their bodily urges he just gives them a blank stare as he bags up their extra-large cherry-flavored condoms and various edible articles of lingerie. He finds it all to be ridiculously silly, really.
And really, why does anyone need handcuffs for intercourse? And if they do, why do they get so red?
That's really the interesting part of working at a sex shop. People buy the strangest things and every so often one would get so flustered that they wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. And he got a bit of insight on... People, he guesses. Not like he cares about people. If anything, this excursion has made him less fond of people.
So any benefits are really just drowned out by the fact that 1) he is always the receiver of TMI and 2) the porn DVD section needs alphabetizing (meanwhile, a puppeteer mutters, "What sort of idiot buys porn these days?").
And mostly he's just bored. Like he is now. He's brought a stool behind the desk so he can sit down and read while he waits for customers to stare at, make sure they don't decide to try things in the store, and basically hope they won't go into a long discussion about intimate times with their significant others.
Ah, how some things love to tear him away from his Victorian-era social commentaries.
If this made no sense, it's five AM and I'm loopy as fuck.[/classy]
[/style][classy=box1] NOT SURE WHO I AM[/classy][style=width:200px; height:200px; color: DCC2BB; background-color:718181;]
[classy=box2]BUT I KNOW WHO I'VE BEEN[/classy]
[classy=text]
She is a goddamn liberated woman. None of this faux-modern girl compressing all her feelings into a ball of numbness and eventually convincing herself that the emptiness is better than the pain, or some retro-hip idiot playing the fifties housewife. No, Vivienne has claws in every sense of the phrase, and what she wants, she takes. She plays for keeps and she plays to win.
Which is why she's in this shitty ass sex shop in Brooklyn. Vivienne storms in like a hurricane, blowing past some loser with greasy fingers and a skeevy gaze. He nearly yelps when her eyes meet his, and he turns back to his grimy little magazine with shaking fingers. Vivienne forgets about him as soon as she turns away and re-directs her gaze to the counter.
"Hey," she says. "Christ is that a wig? That's incredible. Anyway--I need to buy your best strap-on. And lube as well I guess."
Stupid Samuel thinks she's going to pussy out of pegging him? That idiot has no idea what's coming.
[/classy][classy=lyrics]i'll be your boring horror
i'll be your glorious mirror. i don't know how you look away.
[/classy][classy=butts]Cue the scowl. A wig? Well fuck you too! Alex doesn't even bother trying to be friendly, because frankly he's not going to waste his time being cute and cuddly when... well, never, actually. He's always getting fired for his terrible attitude around customers.
But he has learned something: snapping back at the customer about her equally strange hair isn't going to get him anywhere. That just lowers him to her level and makes him the villain as well, and at best makes him look like a whiny child.
No, no, he needs to find a better insult.
"You sure you need one?" He's already running his invisible hands over the surface of the counter in front of him, trying to focus on the texture of the wood so that he'll actually go and grab anything she needs rather than just vectoring it off the shelf. Yeah, he's almost lost a job for that as well.
"Anyway, the strap-ons are right there," he points towards an aisle near the front counter, "and the lube's up here. Boss was tired of people tasting shit, I guess." God he'd sound awkward saying this if he didn't have Dickens in his hands.
[/style][classy=box1] NOT SURE WHO I AM[/classy][style=width:200px; height:200px; color: DCC2BB; background-color:718181;]
[classy=box2]BUT I KNOW WHO I'VE BEEN[/classy]
[classy=text]
Vivienne rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well are you an employee or just some poor sap who got lost and can't figure out how to get out from behind the counter?" she asked. "I didn't ask where the strap-ons are, I asked for your professional advice as to which is the best strap-on. Do you want me to say it in French for you?"
She drummed her nails against the counter, considering.
"You got any pineapple flavored lube? Mango would be good as well. Something nice and fruity."
[/classy][classy=lyrics]i'll be your boring horror
i'll be your glorious mirror. i don't know how you look away.
[/classy][classy=butts]He snaps his book shut and reaches under the counter, flipping through the brands. There. Pina Colada. Close e-fucking-nuff. He sets it on the counter, gaze decidedly hostile.
"You should ask someone that uses them," he says, feigning a polite smile (though his eyes are twitching and his vectors' grip grows tighter on the counter, enough so that small finger-dents are appearing in the wood). "I own a real dick, and thus don't need to compensate for any lack. Perhaps you should have done research before leaving the house."[/classy]
Last Edit: Dec 30, 2012 0:48:20 GMT -5 by ALEX HOFFMAN
[/style][classy=box1] NOT SURE WHO I AM[/classy][style=width:200px; height:200px; color: DCC2BB; background-color:718181;]
[classy=box2]BUT I KNOW WHO I'VE BEEN[/classy]
[classy=text]
"I-I am so sorry," Vivienne stammered, fumbling with the lube. "That was uncontrollably rude of me to assume the idiot working at the sex shop might actually know something about what he's selling. The nerve of me."
Her eyes flashed.
"I'm pretty sure they make hollow ones," she bit out. "Maybe we can both get something out of this. You find a strap on you can stick your dick in and find out what it's like to get past three inches erect, and I can actually get what I came for."
[/classy][classy=lyrics]i'll be your boring horror
i'll be your glorious mirror. i don't know how you look away.
[/classy][classy=butts]The wood snaps now, indents clearly seen. Alex wants to grab her and throw her like he used to do with anyone that got him angry (and oh how easy it is), but he can barely restrain himself from turning this counter over. Explaining the broken counter is going to be hard enough. He doesn't need to total it.
He sits down and starts to open his book again. There are chunks of wood trapped in his vectors and he's crushing them, the sound of splintering wood clearly audible. Slivers slip between invisible fingers, falling to the ground. "I can't help you, unless it's to check out your items or get something from behind the counter. Would you rather me lie? I don't use those items nor do I desire to, so you're on your own there."
She doesn't need to know that he's never shown any interest in anything sexual, because frankly he doesn't need a reason to capsize this entire store. If he does it again--
He focuses on finding his former page, because maybe it'll calm him down. The wood in his unseen hands is now nothing but splinters, and he lets it go. To onlookers, it's almost as if the chunks of wood came to life and started breaking apart on their own.[/classy]
Last Edit: Dec 30, 2012 1:15:05 GMT -5 by ALEX HOFFMAN
[/style][classy=box1] NOT SURE WHO I AM[/classy][style=width:200px; height:200px; color: DCC2BB; background-color:718181;]
[classy=box2]BUT I KNOW WHO I'VE BEEN[/classy]
[classy=text]
Vivienne eyed the shredded remains of the counter, smiling. Okay maybe a smile wasn't the right term to describe the slightly excited, slightly hungry expression on her face, but her lips were definitely turned upward, teeth bared, so a smile is what I'm going with.
She traced a splinter of wood that had peeled off and spun across the counter. There was still varnish on one side.
"What is this, baby's first psychic tantrum? Do you even know what you're doing? You could have at least aimed for me. That would have been fun."
HIDDEN in plain sight is a modern-day supernatural noir game set in New York City and sprawling the rest of America. Magic is real, and so are angels, ghosts, gods, vampires, and witches. It doesn't matter if you believe in them, because they're coming for you either way.
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