troll doll shopping. [open!]

[damien jonathan harris]

damien had been shopping on third street promenade, trying to find toys for his new hairless cat, ursula. he loved ursula a whole lot. ursula needed to be spoiled. damien had found the yarn in an arts and craft shop, but he was having a really hard time finding troll dolls. damien had two troll dolls at home and ursula had already destroyed them. he wasn't too sure if stores even sold troll dolls anymore, but damien was going to keep trying. he would not give up until he had a creepy doll, with fuzzy hair, in his hands. he was on a mission. nothing could stop damien now.

he walked through the different shops, eyeing up a few different things here and there. soon damien felt the need to buy something for himself. it couldn't hurt, right? poor ursula was sitting at home, waiting for his troll doll, but damien needed to indulge a little bit. he was only human. sort of. kind of. maybe not, but close enough. he window shopped for a while, before finding a small clothing shop. it looked a little shady, but damien loved shady. that's where you could find the best deals!

damien entered the shop and started to browse, trying on a few hoodies here and there, but nothing was really catching his eye, until his eyes found something plaid and unusual. a kilt. there was kilt in the middle of a store. damien couldn't resist. he ran to the nearest mirror and slipped it over his jeans. he moved his body around, seeing how it looked at different angles. "does this make my butt look fat?" he asked, out loud.

[emily day campbell]

Dee's enthusiasm was only possibly matched by her smile as she entered the sacred temple of shopping that was the Third Street Promenade. Inhaling lightly, she almost felt like she could smell the pure magnificence that was so familiar to her - which was rather normal, considering the fact that she spent most of the time there. Both when she actually had the money to spend and when she didn't have it - planning what she'd do with it when she did. Basically, Third Street and her went a looooong way back, so it wasn't that weird that she already found its scent very homey.

Today was one of those days when the girl was more than unusually broke. After that slight "incident" in the Dolce store the other day - the one with the shoes!, and the bags! that had involved credit and cash card, when she'd nearly carried half the shop home and that she was still trying to figure out how to tell her doting parents about - she wasn't exactly financially stable. Nope. Not stable at all. However, she still had five bucks in her handbag - and five bucks, in Dee Language basically meant "shoppingshoppingshopping!", no matter how damnably broke she was. In fact, she paraded along the Promenade as if she owned the place, sticking her nose everywhere, ravishing every single store from the most expensive and glamorous to the darkerst and filthiest one. She ordered, fumbled, dressed and undressed, checked prices, made mental math for discounts, left endless piles of clothes scattered everywhere in every store. Her attitude was very close to "fear me!, I'm a client who's always right. so grovel!!!", and innocent shopkeepers trembled at her passage.

Well. Very nearly so.

Eventually, she caught a glimpse of the dark, shady, clothing store that had also caught damien's attention. And, just because she had to, she entered it, just in time to hear a familiar voice.

"does this make my butt look fat?"

Dee let go a girly squeal, before rushing further into the poorly lit division, knocking down a set of second hand trousers before she nearly tackled the man in the kilt down. However, despite the fact that he wasn't exactly the "meatiest" person alive, he was still "meatier" than her so, whatever her evil intentions of knocking him were, they did not succeed. Instead, she was content to wrap her arms around him and pull herself up on the tip of her toes to lovingly kiss him on the cheek, before pulling back. When she did, however, she had to stifle yet another squeal as a pleasant giggle excaped her lips. "A kilt Damien?!" she asked, lifting an eyebrow and surveying the effect from every side, not being able to supress yet another chuckle. "No, it does not make your butt look fat, you silly goose! Are you buying it?" Her eyebrows raised slightly at the word "buy", before her smile broke into a grin and she clapped her hands with delight. "Do say you will!, it truly would be wonderful! And!, Iknow!, I could buy one too and we'd take them to school on Monday and we'd be matching and..." Her eyes shined with glee at the very prospect. Because, duh! Kilt.

[damien jonathan harris]

damien continued to test out his angles, trying to see how his figure looked. is this what girls had to go through? it was horrible, damien never wanted to wear a skirt...excuse me, kilt ever again. but felt bloated and gross. it did nothing for his hips. well, damien's lack of hips. the boy was so skinny it hung on his hip bones, which made it poof out and just---

his thoughts were interrupted by a girly squeal. he knew that squeal! before he knew it, damien was being engulfed in a hug and given a kiss on the cheek. it took him a second to react, but when he did, he hugged emily back, picking her up spinning her around in the process. [careful to not knock over any clothes or valuables, damien was not paying for mannequins. too creepy. unless he could keep the broken one.] "yes, a kilt my dear emily! i figured i could try something new out. i've been browsing for an outfit for the dance. it's either a kilt or an orange suit i saw in another store window." damien wasn't even too sure if he had a date to this thing, but he was going to go anyway. he loved to dance and party all night long. he was a dance machine. normally he'd just take ashley, but she seemed to be googly eyed over that manbearpig thing. oh well.

damien's eyes lit up at emily's next words. "really? you sure?" damien asked, twirling around for her to see. "i mean i figured if i don't wear it over jeans and just go all natural...maybe wear some knee length socks, i might look like a sexy beast." he pondered buying it. it was really cheap, like dirt cheap. maybe because no one but damien would ever want a quilt. "yes, yes i am buying it." damien giggled at emily's enthusiasm about the kilt. she was so adorable. "yes! we will be the sexiest people to walk down the halls. matching kilts, that will have all the girls jealous." damien put a hand on his hip, trying to perfect the kilt. it looked good. still wearing the kilt, damien browsed through some other things that were near by. jeans, scarves, bras...bras. being with a woman at the moment, damien just had to ask emily a question. he held it up to his chest and looked over at emily. "how do you girls wear these things?" they look so uncomfortable.

[emily day campbell]

Had she thought the skirt looked poorly on poor Damien, it wouldn't have made a differece - she wouldn't have said it anyways. She was the smoother-over sort - not one who blatantly told people to the face that what they were wearing was crap, no matter how much she internally shuddered at their attire. This once, she found that the unusualness of the thing actually worked. It fit Damien's awkwardness in a cuddly way - also, he was so excited about it that it wouldn't even cross her mind to say it didn't exactly enhance his luscious forme. Mostly, because such a thing never really would cross her mind at all - she was a bit biased when it came to Damien anyways. Because, well, he was like the most adorable person in the whole wide world - at least right now that she was standing right in front of him.

"The party...?", Dee asked, looking slightly confused for a second. What on earth was he talking about...? It took her about ten seconds before her brain managed to process the info. Finally, her eyes lit up with understandment and her girlish laughter escaped her lips again, though slightly nervous this time. "Oh, that dance!" Oh yes. She had already bought about... what was it, five?! costumes for the occasion. Five outfits for any "just in cases". She felt slightly guilty about it, but shrugged the guilt away as she focused solely on the matter at hand - the kilt. "Oh, my!, pleasepleaseplease tell me it is not that dreadful thing on Midnight Sparkle." she begged, her eyebrows delicately knitting upwards with undisguised concern. This was a very serious matter - life or death, even! "It's bound to fall apart if you wear it. Into pieces. On the floor! And leave you there naked." she finished with a dramatic accent, lifting one of her hands to her forehead.

She tilted her head to the left and lifted a critical eyebrow. No. Anything but the orange suit. It didn't look too bad. It needed a couple of stitches here and there - to prevent the boy from looking too edgy and it'd be just fine. "Of course I'm sure!" she exclaimed, an adoring smile returning to her face. "It'll be just perfectly perfect! And I know just the thing!, argyle socks! Dark green ones!" She shifted from side to side, examining him from all angles, twirling around him. Yes. Green was good. "And yaaaay!" she giggled slightly, already picturing it. "You'll knock 'em dead, honey! Though I daresay I was more o'less aiming at the boys..." Yet another nervous giggle. How on earth was she to wear...

"Huh...?" she asked, lifting her eyes from the kilt to Damien. Her mouth formed a slight "O" before all her concerns were washed away and she burst into bubbly laughter. "Dammy!" she scolded with amused reproach, a slight pink blush creeping up to her cheeks as she tried to prevent herself from laughing - too much. "We... er... you know..." Didn't he? "Well. We. Um. Wrap it around... Uh..." God. "Oh bother. We just do." she said, shrugging. "I guess it comes naturally when you're a girl. I've never had bra dillemas." she continued, lifting her eyes at him with an amused look. "Are we buying the bra as well...?"

[damien jonathan harris]

"you know, the partayyyy", damien said this and made a little circling motion with his arms. you know...the swirly circle thing that they do in sponge bob. the bring it round town thing. oh well. damien attempted it, looking rather funny in the kilt may i say. damien couldn't help but smile at emily's laugh. it was so girly and she was always so happy, the two were truly meant to be friends. "emily, i've come to the conclusion that we are soul mates. we are going to live in the forest with about twenty cats and only venture out into humanity to do some serious shopping." it sounded like a pretty awesome plan. to damien at least. "yes, the dance! the dance that you are so dancing to pokerface with me." damien loved lady gaga. so much. it hurt. "you don't like it? i think it is kind of snazzy. i don't think i'd mind being naked at the dance. more freedom to move around. plus, i am a pretty sexy man when i'm down to only my boxers!"

at the mention of the socks, damien's eyes lit up. "i am so excited! we can knock them dead. though we have to be careful, we might offend some actual scottish people and get beat up in the school parking lot. hopefully i can find a bagpipe to complete the outfit." damien was one of those kids that would be able to get a bagpipe on short notice. he had many connections and people owed him many favours. he was known around the neighbourhood for saving cats from trees and saving people from burning buildings. damien was amazed at the bra explanation, hanging on emily's every word. "but...why...doesn't it hurt?" damien wasn't too sure how to answer emily's next question. was he going to buy it? this to was on sale for very cheap. it had pink sequins and was kind of soft. "i don't know, let me try it on first!" damien put it on his chest and fumbled to try and clasp the back. "how do you girls do this? mind giving me a hand love, my tatas make life so difficult."

[emily day campbell]

Dee’s torso shook convulsively for a few seconds as the couple of hiccupy chuckles that escaped her pink lips rose in volume, her head leaning slightly backwards. “Dammy, lovely!, that’s the best idea you ever had.” she said, reaching out and poking his nose lovingly, her hand softly straightening the folds of the arm of his shirt, her delicate fingers picking off at some imaginary particles of dust. “Though I would truly miss all the eye candy.” she murmured wistfully, as if seriously considering the prospect. It was just so easy to let go off reality with Damien. It meant she was allowed to be as childish and hopeful and that she wouldn’t be considered weird or have all her lovely and utterly silly dreams cut off. “Could we have cute neighbours living in treehouses next to us…?” she asked hopefully, her face lifting up slightly and her eyes staring upwards in a juvenile fashion - pretty much like a little kid would.

“You’re totally on!” she replied, an impish twinkle playing in her eyes. “And I’ma totally cream you with my awesome dancing skills.” The mock conceited look with which she said it, a naughty smirk tugging at her lips and the bouncing action was all but an endearing sight - especially for ones who, as Damien knew perfectly well that it was a highly hyperbolic statement. She wasn’t that much fond of Lady Gaga, granted - she was more of a Highschool Musical dash Lily Allen dash Taylor Swift sort of person - but she knew just how much her friend appreciated the woman in question. And there was no denying that she made some kickass dance music. The girl made a delicate sort of face, scoffing lightly. “It’s not that I dislike it!” she protested, ever the smoother-over. “Else I wouldn’t have checked it out. It’s that I know for a fact that all those stitches are just begging to fall apart.” She giggled slightly at his response. “You are a wild man, Damien Harris.”

“Of course not!” she replied indignantly between slightly stifled giggles as she gently snagged the bra from his hands and picked it up with the tip of her fingers. “Fashion… is… never… painful.” she continued, as she helped him stick his arms into the right places and then went behind him to hook the clasps together. “Except of course, if we are talking stilettos.” she said, matter-of-factly. “Ta-da!” she chimed, grabbing his arms and twirling him around for him to face the mirror and standing next to him to admire her arts-craft, before bursting into laughter convulsively. “There is no way I’m letting you wear that to the ball!”

[damien jonathan harris]

aww, emily was so adorable. damien grabbed his chest and glared at emily, a look of mock hurt on his face. "that hurts my feelings. i'm not enough good enough eye candy for you?" damien's nose scrunched up once it was poked. damn, his only weakness besides oompa loompas and hairless cats. he instantly forgot his mock anger. "yes, i suppose you can have your 'cute neighbors', but i better not catch you doing anything dirty on my bed or better yet, my land." damien liked the sound of "my land." he'd be creepy outside with a shotgun rocking back and fourth on a rocking chair, while eating watermelon. it sounded like a solid plan. he was also bald in this scenario and had no teeth. yummy. sexy. delicious. "ha! i doubt you can beat my dancing skills. i can do the moon walk, but we will put this to the test." damien could see the two spinning around like idiots and damien could attempt his fail moonwalk on the dance floor.

"i suppose i could get that fixed up. do you know how to do all that fancy stuff? i'd try to patch it up myself, but it might turn out to be a bloody experience." damien and sewing needles weren't a good combination, ever. he was a bit clumsy and had big, goofy hands. "that's what i like to hear!"

"how can you say fashion does not hurt? i've seen girls walk around in some crazy outfits. those corset looking things...and the shoes. oh god the shoes! i don't know how you walk in those things. and the bra just looks like an evil death trap. and don't get my started on the underwear..." girls had it pretty bad. damien was content with throwing on a pair of checkered vans and boxers in the morning. nothing complicated or painful about that! damien admired his bra in the mirror. it was kind of nice. "don't laugh at my breasts! i kind of like it", he said, trying to smooth it out. "with a couple socks i could make it look good. of course i won't wear it to the ball, silly. i'm just going to use it to attract women. i think it looks kind of nice. i like playing dress up, can i dress you up now?"