08-25-2020, 03:43 AM
(( idk if i’ll jump full-swing back into roleplaying, but i couldn’t get this thread idea outta my head, so here we are: flintlock has a goodwill now ))
For the past few days, word was spreading around the lodge of a "clothes giveaway" happening in the village. Interest peaked, Brendan didn’t ask for details, goodness no, but he made sure to listen in on any conversations; people are giving away shirts and pants they no longer want, at least that’s what he gathers, and it’s happening in the village. All week, too, or maybe even forever—depends on how many people find interest in it, he guesses.
Huh.
Admittedly, this event had no place in Brendan’s schedule at all. Between the chickens, training, the chickens again, and even more training, Brendan juggles with the idea of attending this little event. After all, he’s perfectly fine with having a pile of old clothes stuffed under his bed, even if it’s all a bunch of crap he’d never look at again. And...and it’s not like he needs anything, right? He has a good collection of shirts and jeans, all perfectly neat and tidy. So long as those are in good shape, he’d be fine! Completely fine.
...Well, that was his mentality until he found a hole in one of those shirts.
So, there he is, in that random building in the village that he hasn’t bothered to touch until this hour, tugging on the brim of a pink hoodie he tossed on. Brendan...never really thought about wearing pink before, especially a pastel variant, but when he poses in the cracked mirror shoved in a corner of the building, he considers otherwise. It’s comfortable, he guesses. He’s sweating a little under the fabric, but it doesn’t itch when it brushes against his skin. And...he sniffs the armpit, and bobs his head up and down. Okay...okay. Shoving his hands in the pockets, he glances down at Roosty.
"What do you think, bud?" he asks, rotating his leg to test the worn out jeans he found (with a belt, they fit pretty snug). Roosty crows solemnly, fluffing out his feathers before he picks at his toes; snorting, Brendan smirks. "You’re so mean."
For the past few days, word was spreading around the lodge of a "clothes giveaway" happening in the village. Interest peaked, Brendan didn’t ask for details, goodness no, but he made sure to listen in on any conversations; people are giving away shirts and pants they no longer want, at least that’s what he gathers, and it’s happening in the village. All week, too, or maybe even forever—depends on how many people find interest in it, he guesses.
Huh.
Admittedly, this event had no place in Brendan’s schedule at all. Between the chickens, training, the chickens again, and even more training, Brendan juggles with the idea of attending this little event. After all, he’s perfectly fine with having a pile of old clothes stuffed under his bed, even if it’s all a bunch of crap he’d never look at again. And...and it’s not like he needs anything, right? He has a good collection of shirts and jeans, all perfectly neat and tidy. So long as those are in good shape, he’d be fine! Completely fine.
...Well, that was his mentality until he found a hole in one of those shirts.
So, there he is, in that random building in the village that he hasn’t bothered to touch until this hour, tugging on the brim of a pink hoodie he tossed on. Brendan...never really thought about wearing pink before, especially a pastel variant, but when he poses in the cracked mirror shoved in a corner of the building, he considers otherwise. It’s comfortable, he guesses. He’s sweating a little under the fabric, but it doesn’t itch when it brushes against his skin. And...he sniffs the armpit, and bobs his head up and down. Okay...okay. Shoving his hands in the pockets, he glances down at Roosty.
"What do you think, bud?" he asks, rotating his leg to test the worn out jeans he found (with a belt, they fit pretty snug). Roosty crows solemnly, fluffing out his feathers before he picks at his toes; snorting, Brendan smirks. "You’re so mean."
[table] [/table]
AND I WILL STAY AWAY.
338 words. beware hidden scroll.