( girls just wanna ) ( open )

[rhinemaid]

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.

Comments

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

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?"

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

[forgotmycape]

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.