multiversallogs | ( girls just wanna ) ( open )

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( girls just wanna ) ( open )

Who: Cindy, Ilde, and YOU?
What: Fairies and Fables have needs, and there's this place in Howl Barrow-
Where: A Howl Barrow sex shop.
When: Midday Shundi.
Notes: Rodolphus is getting a tentacle tie-pin as a gift. If you have a preference on threading with Cindy or Ilde or getting tag-teamed, specifically, please note as much or we'll decide amongst ourselves.
Warnings: Discussion of sexuality, masturbation, tentacles, etc. No Sean Connery, unfortunately.

The reason for Ilde's outing is twofold; picking up and wrecking men is more Sonja's area of expertise than hers and yet fingers really only go so far, for one thing, and for another her quiet canvassing has produced some rumours about what she'll find here that have inspired an almost morbid curiosity. In a city so diverse, it only makes sense that the accoutrements of local sexuality would be equally so, and - as Cindy agrees, joining her when they run into each other riverside on the way - that she has to see. Her horizons were being broadened even before Baedal, it only makes sense to continue exploring new perspectives. Especially since she's always been in favour of trying new things.

And what better way to get to know a new acquaintance, anyway? Maybe they'll get a coffee after.

The shop is a discreet place just off the main street through the district, featuring a mural of bodies (human and xenian alike - Ilde points out a mermaid, laughing) in various states of dishabille painted onto the back of the glass storefront; only light and shadows coming translucently through the colours give much of a hint at what lies behind. They linger outside a while to finish respective cigarettes and speculate between themselves, and Ilde grinds hers out under her heel before they go in.

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This finger business had gotten real old even before Cindy's arrival in that windowless room. Not that she lacks the opportunities to get serviced, but sometimes she just wants the sex without the strings of confidential information tying everything up and most of all, Cindy just wants the sex with somebody who doesn't smell like rotting meat, looks like a sack of dusty potatoes, or has a nose like Mary's shepherd staff.

Aladdin, where are you when a girl needs you?

Surrounded by Mundies isn't exactly Cindy's idea of fun, but batteries do help in times like these and well, her bed is empty and even Fables has needs. Plus she needs a job and what other place is better than someplace where she plans on shopping at?

Scratch that. Just inside of the shop's door with the jingling bell (like everybody just needs to know that you're looking for some mechanical company), Cindy's eyes fall on many a shelf with unexpected objects featuring bits and bobs that do not belong on anything that goes inside her vagina. Or near it, for that matter.

"Is this a sex shop or a bait and tackle shop?"

"I don't think I have an orifice for that in either of my forms," Ilde observes, following Cindy's gaze as she moves further in and sounding more mildly curious than disturbed; the mental images of what that might actually involve are sort of interesting! Further in, the room widens out and the stock becomes yet more varied, shelves spiralling out from the oversized and multicolored lava lamp that dominates the center of the room, and it's a safe bet that someone is making bank out of this place.

"I wonder who does have orifices for all of this," Cindy muses as she picks up something that looks more like a mutant octopus than a vibrator. "Whoever does is one lucky, lucky girl."

This should be disturbing to the both of them, but really, somehow it's not. Cindy's seen all types and form of Fables and now all she can think about is how those Fables that aren't allowed outside of the farm reproduce and that's too much even for her. The dish ran away with the spoon for a reason and it's a reason that Cindy has never and will never ask about.

"Hey Ilde..." she starts are she picks up another vibrator, this one neon purple and labeled in thick bold black letters as a TESTER (um... ew) with more arms... wand.... things than the one before, tossing it carelessly across the room to the other woman. "Think fast."

Ilde misses the first 'Hey Ilde' due to examining a display - she doesn't see her talking - so she's understandably a little startled when she realizes there's a vibrator with waving parts flying towards her. On the upside, she's pretty quick on the uptake and she's laughin when she catches it, sparing a brief prayer that these things are bleached between tests as she turns it over in her hands.

"This many seems like overkill," she says, critically. "A few could be interesting. How much was that one you were looking at?"

Be glad it's the one with the waving parts and not the spinning parts. That could make things get very ugly very fast.

"For you and me, sure. For Octopussy, it's probably the equivalent of a Pocket Rocket." The previous toy is picked up carefully between a thumb and forefinger, then turned upside down for the price tag. Cindy makes a face at the numbers on the slip of paper before putting the thing back on the shelf.

"Two and a half marks. You think they charge per tentacle?"

"Maybe. Knowing this place, you know-" Ilde draws Cindy's attention back to the lava lamp central to the room, "-are we sure that's just a lamp?"

Think about it. Or don't.

With that question, Cindy turns her head towards the mentioned object, eyes wide and brows high. It looks so innocent, harkening back to the easier days of being a hippie for Cindy, but on the flip side, it's now frightening.

"If it's not, I dare you to take it home and report back to me in full detail."

"It's taller than I am," Ilde objects quite reasonably, "and two and a half marks is more in my price range." Than however much that would cost, if in theory it weren't a lamp. (It's a lamp and part of the decor, you distressing children, the roof of this store is too low for giants to be frequenting it regularly.)

"Punk ass." Says the woman who didn't offer to try it herself. Cindy huffs a laugh and moves deeper into the store which seems to add more and more weird shit to a basic dildo than she ever thought possible the farther she walks. Curiosity hits as she stops in front of the waterproof section. She doesn't know much about Ilde (and Ilde knows nothing about her) and seems more than willing to give up info about herself, Cindy might as well ask the questions no one else will.

"So what kind of toys do you kids use anyway?"

Edited 2011-06-11 23:38 (UTC)

Keeping pace with Cindy mostly for the sake of the conversation ... and, admittedly, a vested interest in waterproof toys, Ilde shrugs. "I had a rabbit," a sixteenth birthday gift from her godmother, who also paid for the tattoo around her thigh, "but nothing for years."

Something about the way she says that is telling, a wrong note in her voice that she can't make sound casual, but she's not discussing the years she spent in captivity here and now. Today is a good day, and she's just not, so she breezes on by it and figures Cindy (Cynthia, as far as she knows) is like as not to let it pass, "I thought I'd try something new. You know. When in Rome, fuck as the Romans do."

"Really? I thought it was when in Rome, fuck all the Romans as far as the eye can see." At least that is Cindy's rule. Ah, those were the days.

Cindy's ears do pick up that change in Ilde's tone, but something tells her that it's something not to be questioned, at least not right now. Bide her time, and sooner or later, what's in the dark will come to the light.

Even though the shelves are lined end to end with brightly and more naturally colored dildos, ass plugs, and the totally interesting game of ass toss, there's one particular item that catches Cindy's blue eyes. In any other store, this vibrator would blend into the background, stuck amongst the dolphins and the rabbits, and other barnyard shaped toys. But here, it looks normal, sounds normal and the name--Pure Texture--is normal as well.

Cindy picks up the box like a child picking her Christmas gift from under the trees and yells for Ilde to get her waterbound ass over this way before flipping the box over to read the product description out loud. "Listen to this: a beautifully designed vibrator with pleasure in mind. Easy grip dial lets you set the pace of the vibes with ease. Made from the new pure ultra soft silicon, its smoooooth texture is sure to impress the most discerning buyer. As an added bonus, the Vibe is waterproof as well. Sounds like your kind of deal."

Romans and the fucking thereof aside, Ilde joins her obligingly to get a better look at what she's found. Nice, simple, waterproof and probably good for some of the optional attachments that she's been examining on the other shelves- "That looks just what I'm after," she says, taking the box and turning it over again to have a look at the toy itself. "I like waterproof. Some of the pools near the waterfalls are private enough- oh, see, the attachments are cheaper if you buy them separately."

She gestures with the box, adding ruefully, "No Romans handy yet."

"I bet they'll let you special order one," Cindy quips as she hands Ilde a family sized pack of double A batteries, enough to last her until next week if that choice in toy works out well. Nothing has piqued her own interest as of yet, though. If all else fails, she'll just throw a request for a booty call on the network and let the cards fall where they may.

Shame? Nah. Shame gets no one laid. Desperation, however, brings a Mundy to Cindy's bed.

Ilde has less shame than she has awkwardness, and it's just so much easier to - hey, what does that do, she's saying her shekels - stop by somewhere like this and pick up a quick fix. Besides, sometimes a little personal time is downright preferable; attraction isn't, more's the pity, a guarantee of good sex. She knows how to get herself off, unlike Schrodinger's booty call. There's nothing worse than picking someone up and discovering they can't make you come.

"I'm going to check out the novelty items," she adds, thoughtfully, holding the battery pack against the Pure Texture box. "Just for fun."

Compared to her old flame, very few of Cindy's conquests can measure up to him. If there's something Prince Charming had going for him other than his bedroom secret foot fetish, was that he knew to fuck. Too bad he kept his skills sharp by fucking everything that ever moved. But as for Cindy, she refuses to make this a contest because ever for her, personal sex involves more than just base skills.

That's a conversation for another day anyway. She nods at Ilde, turning her attention back to the more human featured dildos, next to the DVDs for all sorts of kinks and pleasures. Those Cindy doesn't need. She has enough flashbacks to make her own collection.

"Have fun," Cindy throws over her shoulder. "I'll be over here looking for something."

"Tell me what you find," Ilde says, flippant as she goes, detouring past a display shelf of various lubricants, divided into segments per what species or species-group they're designed for, with your basic get-er-done all the way up to the more ambitious products with additional effects that veer from bewildering to intriguing to mildly concerning.

The basics for humans seem like her best bet to start, using the recently acquired rule of thumb that while she can manage with most things humans have and use, some of them react with her too intensely (alcohol, pain-killers, stimulants like coffee) and the idea of ODing on lube is just not something she feels like having to explain to a Baedal hospital.

Oh, Cindy certainly will. In fact, she quickly pulls down a DVD from the shelf and winds her way through the aisles in search of the other woman. The smile on Cindy's face clearly says she is up to no good. Again. What else is new?

"I heard this was free with purchase of any vibrator today," she says, shoving the Flipping the Clit With Flipper and Other Sea Friends flick in Ilde's arms. "It's your kind of people. Guaranteed to get you wet."

"Dolphins come like a shotgun blast," she remarks as she fishes the DVD out to examine the cover of it. (Where did she hear that trivia? She has no idea, it's just one of those things people pick up and repeat - in fairness, once you've heard that, will you ever forget it? No. You probably won't.)

The free sticker indicates they are having as much trouble moving this out of the store as she might imagine, and really, some day she's going to need something hideous to gift someone else with for a laugh. The DVD stays in her pile.

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that."

Nope. There are just some bits of info Cindy doesn't ever need to know. Besides, she has other things to worry about right now, like her own potential purchases. Well, this flick about randy firemen might work if none of the toys do. Hopefully, they're being randy by themselves and not with each other.

Ilde just grins at her, laughing in her gurgling way, as she snags a bottle of a basic KY equivalent and balances it on top of both the first box, the smaller box of optional attachments she snagged earlier, and the DVD. (The tentacle attachments boast a variety of textures, and something about variety-sized optional suction cups.)

"There are tie pins over here," she says, pointing, "I want to see if I can find something that'll make Lestrange emote."

His expression never changes, it's fascinating!

"Who?"

Aside from the wacky fact that this place sells something as mundane as tie pins, Cindy can't remember running into anybody named Lestrange. They must be strange. Pun intended.

The novelty section of any sex shop is always fun - for given values - and Baedal has its run of the usual joke glasses with dicks in place of noses, as well as the tie pins Ilde is examining with worryingly animated tentacles.

"Lestrange. He went into the fog with us." The first and failed escape attempt; they'd learned from it, at least.

The who what now? Cindy heard about the fog from Sonja, but didn't really get all the details what with wanting to get out of a locked room being more important and all. Time again to play the dumb ass blonde.

"Doll, are you sniffing the lube?" Cindy questions with one eyebrow cocked in pretend confusion. "Because I see your mouth moving, but I'm not understanding a goddamn thing you're saying."

Ilde looks blank for a moment (which isn't all that unusual, for her), then- "Oh, right. A group of us took a ship north and tried to leave through the fog. It didn't go well." What a massive understatement that is. "The Fogtrader's Guild ran a book on it, though, we got some money for coming back sane."

Cindy looks away for a moment, appearing like this conversation is less about the inmates trying to escape and more about the plastic tub of clitoris shaped lollipops she randomly sticks her hands into. Where were these things when Snow was having her bachelorette party? They would have been more exciting than the useless party favors she did give out.

"What happened?"

This guild Ilde speaks of is made into a mental note for Cindy to look up later. The longer she stays in Baedel, the longer that list gets.

"The further out you get, the worse it is." Ilde compares and contrasts two tie-pins - one of them is more energetic, the other is a deeper blue - as she speaks, poking the tentacles with her little finger and watching them recoil and whirl. "There were eels - Sonja brought a dead one back - that attacked the vessel. A kind of reality storm. Whole skyscrapes rising up out of the ocean. It was fucked."

"That sounds like an understatement to me..."

Suddenly the tub starts buzzing and Cindy yanks her hand out quickly, toppling the container to the ground where the candies spill out and skitter across the room. By themselves. Like ants hopped on whatever drugs the kids use nowadays to get all hot and bothered. Never has Cindy wanted a more normal shop as she does now.

"Okay, I am actually done with this store. Once the candy clits start jerking, it's over."

Ilde bursts out laughing, and puts one of the tie pins back - whichever - as she skitters backwards a bit to get clear of the vibrating candy clits. "All right, all right- I'm going to pay for these. Do you want to get coffee?"

"Only if it's Irish coffee." After this place, she really will need a drink. Good thing she heals fast or her liver would just up and climb right out of her bellybutton. Or her ass. Whichever one is easier.

"What did that person do to deserve that?" She's pointing at the wriggling tie pin that looks more like a choking mechanism than a decoration.

In response, she does her best impression of Rodolphus Lestrange's slightly creepy impassivity and thousand yard stare. Then, snapping out of it, "All the time."

"That's not an answer, Ilde," Cindy replies not quite removing the confused look from her face.

"He's like that all the time," she clarifies, apparently feeling that this is sufficiently asking to be trolled, on Rodolphus's part.

Tim should have known something was up when his boss's client had asked to meet in a store instead of coming to the office or somewhere normal people meet. All Tim was given was a time, an address, an aisle, and what to look for, not the type of store or even the name. Standing in front of the shop, staring at the murals, Tim could only assume that was because he desperately wanted Tim to murder him. Or he hadn't known what kind of place it was. Possibly a combination. Tim was no prude, he didn't care if people wanted to spice things up or scratch a particular itch, but he absolutely didn't want to have to stand around waiting for a slimy, shapeshifting scumbag in a goddamn sex shop. If the little bastard didn't show... he was going to have a word with him, one way or another.

After staring at the door for a good minute or two and huffing with an appropriate amount of indignation, Tim headed inside in the hopes that maybe he was lucky and the guy was already waiting. Of course he wasn't. And of course the aisle at the end, the one he was supposed to wait by, had to be the one with all the strap-ons and attachments. Fanfuckingtasitc. Tim rolled his eyes in annoyance, then headed over, grabbing a random magazine from the end of an aisle on his way. He stood in the corner so he had a good view of the door, settled one arm on the top of his holster, and flipped open the magazine perhaps a bit too loudly.

It was a catalog of women's lingerie. Lingerie that, in Kentucky, would be called "Old fashioned". A bloomercatalog. He started paging through it regardless, his back to the strap-on display, and pretended it was one of his MAXIMs from home, just... without all the good parts. And more blue breasts. Tim didn't manage to look interested, but he managed not to look too disinterested, glancing up whenever he heard the door open to see if it was the asshole he was supposed to be meeting.

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( girls just wanna ) ( open )

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If this is too belated or doesn't work or sommat, feel free to ignore or ask me to edit :3