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(no subject)

Who Piccolo

namekian and YOU
Where Out and about
When 7/18, afternoon
Warning None
Summary Piccolo tries to escape the confinement of the MAC, and is running errands for his new living situation.
Format whatev

All efforts were still unsuccessful. He had been in this City for a while now. Since meditation was a good escape from his surroundings, the fact was he was still in a confined space became the harsh reality he was faced with every time he opened his eyes. The contact between nature and spirit was really starting to fade, thanks to thin apartment walls, neutrally colored carpeting, and the noise from the street. There was a vast difference between birds chirping and the wind gently passing through the leaves of a tree and loud traffic and gunshots outside.

How were people even able to think here?

He didn't wear civilian clothes often, but he was tired of the attention his eccentric cape drew. It was a quick errand, not a fight nor training. He didn't need his cape. The turban though? That was staying. Until he could find something else to cover the antennae. Not that the green skin and freakish tallness wasn't enough to make someone look twice.

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She gave him a look between shock and disgust. If this were accidental, it could be excused, though that made it no less important to correct it. But deliberate? That is a horror she'd rather not imagine.

"What, then, was your intention with this outfit?"

"To be dressed." He answers simply.

She puts a hand on her hip and gives him a pitying look. "I'm without a doubt that we can do far better than that. For a start, dress you in something you'll actually enjoy wearing! Because this certainly isn't it."

No one had ever acted so casual with him, save for maybe on occasion Bulma. That didn't make it okay though. His discomfort wasn't because of the clothes, it was because of the woman that just wouldn't let up. "Do you make it a habit to bother people for such trivial things?"

Edited 2012-07-28 04:41 (UTC)

That mild glow she'd had suddenly flared up as she pursed her lips and glared. "I'm offering my assistance. I don't even expect any kind of recompense for it!" There was a clear difference between being helpful and meddlesome, and while she hadn't quite explored what that difference was, she remained certain that it must be at play here. Somehow.

No matter how much she pestered him, he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of telling him how to dress. The woman didn't seem like a threat, and he wasn't going to crumble to her criticisms. "What's your name?"

"You'll know it by my sign on the tag once the garments can be finished." She said it with a smirk, not often being given to smugness so much as haughtiness, but she could pull it off when necessary. "Kanaya Maryam."

He examines her face. Obviously he had no idea how to handle her pushiness. Clearly what he was doing wasn't making her go away. "Kanaya Maryam. I don't need or want your help. What can I do to make it so that you will pester someone else?" He couldn't blame her entirely. He of course made the decision to try to assimilate to the City. If he wanted to avoid these kinds of situations he should've just flown off. Lesson learned.

Face it, Piccolo, you've got an overbearing not-quite-fifteen-year-old girl determined to get you a new style. It's all for the sake of assimilation, right? "Allow me to take your measurements and inform me of where the outfit should be delivered. Whether you may want it, I'm inclined to believe that your awareness of such needs is negligible."

He crosses his arms over his chest. "Fine." He grunted. If that's all she wanted, just a small amount of discomfort will make his current problem go away.

"I shouldn't even need to bother you with the design, as I'm sure you'd prefer I didn't. I'll manage something satisfactory on my own." She pulls a length of measuring tape out of her purse. Yes, she travels prepared like that. "Now, where should be the easiest place to have this done?"

"You tell me."

"The offices of the magazine at which I'm employed may be simplest."

And she pulls at the air, a green thread pulling with her, and a wide portal opens up to reveal the interior of those very offices.

It was then that Piccolo realized that the girl he was speaking to was really an import. Such ability and she chose to waste it like this. Looking from the portal and back to her he gave a nod. "After you."

Edited 2012-08-03 19:16 (UTC)

What, and let him run off behind her? She made a sweeping gesture toward the portal. "Oh no, I insist."

Apparently she was smarter than he thought. He let out an aggravated grunt and walked ahead.

She may not always be smart, but stupid is a descriptor she usually avoids, unless self-applied. She took him by the arm and lead him to the sewing room, full of clothing racks and mannequins, with fabrics and sketches strewn about here and there.

As she prepared her tape and a notebook, she figured she might as well keep him occupied. "So, perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me of your native planet. My dealings with other non-humans beyond my compatriots is unfortunately limited, and I wouldn't be opposed to expanding such knowledge."

"There's not much to say." He paused, closing his eyes. "I didn't grow up in my native planet."

Her lips twisted with some annoyance. "But you must have some awareness of the conditions there. Raise your arms, please."

"I am." Piccolo muttered, doing as she says. "But I believe you mentioned if I didn't mind to tell you. Maybe I do mind. I hardly know you."

"That was only a courtesy, really. I'd like to hear it anyway, and perhaps I may tell you of my own afterward." She stretched out the tape to get her measurements, jotting them down as she went.

Not wanting to make this more uncomfortable than it already was, he gave in. "...It's a meadow-like planet with three suns and lots of water."

"Three suns?" Well, that detail definitely got her attention. "That must have limited the night to a very short length. It sounds pleasant. They didn't burn terribly, did they?"

"No, not from what I remember." And what he remembers is primarily what he remembers from Nail's memories.

"Well, how fortunate for you, then, that of your three they would each be so mild as to be tolerated. We only had the one, but it burned with such intensity as to convince all of my fellows to avoid it entirely." Being the only one of your species whose not only capable of withstanding it, but actually rather fond of its light as well, can be a terribly lonely place, really.