(OPEN.)

[notastickwoman.livejournal.com]

WHO: JOAN HOLLOWAY & YOU.
WHERE: SHOPPING
WHEN: THIS AFTERNOON
WARNINGS: SOMEONE FROM THE 60s. JUST PUTTING THAT OUT THERE.
SUMMARY: JOAN DECIDES TO DRESS FOR THE ERA.
FORMAT: CAPS LO- no, actionspam or prose, whatever.



[What was this future? She can't smoke inside department stores? There isn't personalized service? All the sizes are tiny? Joan is sort of sick of the future at this point. She has no idea what to wear and the sheer notion of asking someone who is so clueless about the basics of customer service to help her seems to insult not only her pride, but her sense of propriety. So, there she was, staring at all of these sorts of clothes needing something Don Draper strength at the moment.

Just try and approach her.]

Comments

[couldmakeucare.livejournal.com]

[there's rustling in a nearby dress rack, followed by a stifled squee, then a sigh of disappointment followed by] Okay, I don't think I could fit in that unless I cut off my arm.

[notastickwoman.livejournal.com]

[Oh dear, what a disaster. Joan rarely makes conversation with anyone, especially someone who has feelings and opinions about things.]

[couldmakeucare.livejournal.com]

[comes around the other side of the rack, double takes at Joan] Sorry, do I know you from somewhere? [looks familiar, but hasn't seen in person, talked on Network...?]

You were the one who told me to put the bag on my head, right?

[notastickwoman.livejournal.com]

That would be me. [SIGH. Looks like her shopping trip has turned into a socializing event.] Did my advice help?

[couldmakeucare.livejournal.com]

I think I got the gist, thanks. [she caught that sigh. She's lived in close quarters long enough to get the hint when someone wants to be left alone. She doesn't always respect it, but this is someone she barely knows, not a bunkmate.] But I can see you're busy. Just thought I'd say hi to a fellow imPort, but I didn't mean to bother you. [waves and turns away to go back to her dresses]

[fingerbang]

[SO THERE'S A WOMAN WITH A FREAKISHLY SIMILAR BODY TYPE + DISPROPORTIONATE, DISGUSTING ANIME WAIST DELICATELY SORTING THROUGH A RACK OF CLOTHES. Lust is in full civilian swagged out mode right now--her hair's pulled back from her face and she's wearing a cowl-necked dress and everything!--but that doesn't mean she can't recognize a face that's already shown itself on the Network, especially not when she's the star of Creep Hard 2: Creep Harder. If she was capable of empathizing, she'd feel a little sympathetic for Joan; as someone who got Imported from an even earlier time period, albeit an anachronistic one, she know that feel, bro.

After casually picking through a bunch of crap for a few minutes, she moves over to a display nearer to the other woman, and cocks her head in her direction, raising her eyebrows.]

Trouble?

[notastickwoman.livejournal.com]

[a sigh; why is it that a woman just couldn't mind her own business anymore? now she had to deal with people "talking" to her and "trying" to make a connection. joan plasters on that fake smile before regarding the person that asked her a simple question.]

I just don't understand this generation, that's all.