01-09-2010, 09:12 PM
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531
All kinds of late :<
His hair dye was beginning to fade one more, the color losing its vibrancy and the dark brown underneath began to show. To compensate for his sudden self consciousness, he planted an old ski cap on his head, parts cut out for his ears to peak through, and the remaining dyed hair was erupting out from underneath its edge. There had to be some way for him to style his hair better than simply trimming it once in a while, letting it grow shoulder length usually. He had divided his hair about an inch over from the center of his head to the left, some of his bangs partially covering an eye. It was hard to see and he kept rising a hand to move strands out of his vision. Maybe he could find himself a bandanna or some kind of headband.
Strel needed material, and that was all she wrote. He wanted to make something, a test of sorts, with his skills. Sewing was his passion and he needed the cloth to do what he wanted. Though the problem was, he needed a sort of base to work from, and he was not sure exactly what kind of base to use, let alone what kind of clothing he wanted to try to make. He figured he could look for cloth as well as clothing the humans had not taken away while they were dying out in the city. He could probably cut up a lot of the clothing he found later too and use that as material for Luperci clothing since a lot of what was available would need to be tailored to properly fit a werecanine. He hoped to come across a store that had once upon a time sold bolts of cloth and sewing tools as well as yarn, wool string, needles, and thread, but he would settle on finding only an abandoned boutique of sorts.
There was a store, empty mannequins on display in the dusty window, that seemed perfect. The door was ajar, dust puffing out if it into the day light. He thought nothing of it, slipping into the place, letting his eyes adjust to the slight light difference. He saw clothes lying around on the ground, racks, and some were still hanging. He went to the left of the store, looking for something he could use as an example. He took about four of the same identical shirt, glad they were the same color; it meant they could be used to make a shirt or something of the same color. He crouched behind a shelving unit, examening a fallen blouse. It felt thin and delicate; good for fancy trim. Those shirts, and the blouse, he draped over his arm in his crouch, feeling the amount weight his hand down a bit.
His ear twitched and he turned, having thought he heard something in the back of the store. Stiffly rising, Strel looked over the shelving unit into the depth of the store. "Hello? Someone there?" he called out, voice echoing in the confines of place, lavender eyes trying to see a figure or something in the location he thought he had heard a noise.
All kinds of late :<
His hair dye was beginning to fade one more, the color losing its vibrancy and the dark brown underneath began to show. To compensate for his sudden self consciousness, he planted an old ski cap on his head, parts cut out for his ears to peak through, and the remaining dyed hair was erupting out from underneath its edge. There had to be some way for him to style his hair better than simply trimming it once in a while, letting it grow shoulder length usually. He had divided his hair about an inch over from the center of his head to the left, some of his bangs partially covering an eye. It was hard to see and he kept rising a hand to move strands out of his vision. Maybe he could find himself a bandanna or some kind of headband.
Strel needed material, and that was all she wrote. He wanted to make something, a test of sorts, with his skills. Sewing was his passion and he needed the cloth to do what he wanted. Though the problem was, he needed a sort of base to work from, and he was not sure exactly what kind of base to use, let alone what kind of clothing he wanted to try to make. He figured he could look for cloth as well as clothing the humans had not taken away while they were dying out in the city. He could probably cut up a lot of the clothing he found later too and use that as material for Luperci clothing since a lot of what was available would need to be tailored to properly fit a werecanine. He hoped to come across a store that had once upon a time sold bolts of cloth and sewing tools as well as yarn, wool string, needles, and thread, but he would settle on finding only an abandoned boutique of sorts.
There was a store, empty mannequins on display in the dusty window, that seemed perfect. The door was ajar, dust puffing out if it into the day light. He thought nothing of it, slipping into the place, letting his eyes adjust to the slight light difference. He saw clothes lying around on the ground, racks, and some were still hanging. He went to the left of the store, looking for something he could use as an example. He took about four of the same identical shirt, glad they were the same color; it meant they could be used to make a shirt or something of the same color. He crouched behind a shelving unit, examening a fallen blouse. It felt thin and delicate; good for fancy trim. Those shirts, and the blouse, he draped over his arm in his crouch, feeling the amount weight his hand down a bit.
His ear twitched and he turned, having thought he heard something in the back of the store. Stiffly rising, Strel looked over the shelving unit into the depth of the store. "Hello? Someone there?" he called out, voice echoing in the confines of place, lavender eyes trying to see a figure or something in the location he thought he had heard a noise.