london bridge is falling down (o)

It was too bright to be out and about. The sun felt like a giant heatgun directed straight at Kitty's forehead, slowly melting it into another blasted migraine. The fiery air blowing against her cheeks stained it an unnatural shade of plum, making her squint at the sharp pain threatening to split her face open. Pulling up her hood higher over her head, Kitty picked up her pace as she tried to remember why she felt it absolutely necessary to take this walk in the first place, feeling a little sick all of a sudden. What day was it?

She pulled her sleeve to reveal probably the most expensive thing she owned: a watch that awkwardly hugged her wrist (courtesy of Classy Lady #2, random customer at Gotham). She glanced down and yawned at the time: one-thirty in the goddamn afternoon. "Wayyy too early to be up. My gig's not till 6," she groaned as she gave the side of her hand a quick scratch before pulling the sleeve back down. Leather and sweat do not mix. Lately her mind has had nothing to worry about but her job at the Gotham; a glorious thing considering how busy the past year was with its utter aimlessness. No more chasing after dumb events, no more stretching budgets. Thank god for little miracles. "And thank you, Tyler, for bagging me a decent-paying racket that helps me and the rascals get through the week and score free drinks every night!" she mused happily, eyeing the shops that lined past as her legs automatically carried her through the familiar streets.

A chubby little girl in a flowery orange dress and braided pigtails was cheerfully hopping towards her direction, tugging at the hem of her mother's skirt with one hand and merrily waving around three heart-shaped balloons on the other. Her arm fats wiggled slightly with the vigorous movement, making Kitty crack a smile and wrinkle her nose at the kid, nodding shyly at the older lady when their eyes met.

She sighed. It was Crush's birthday! Of course, how could she forget. A day short of that stupid occasion devised by capitalist pigs to exploit the public's obsession with love and other tragedies. Yeah, she's totally not bitter. The world had a curious way of reminding you of the important things. Like how being single is f*cking amazing. "A shoe store. Shoes for my dear little brother. Yep. Here...we... go."

The breeze from the air conditioner overhead instantly relieved Kitty's headache. A few more seconds under the cold breath of the machine wouldn't hurt, momentarily closing her eyes for maximum relaxation. She wondered if there were other people who shamelessly did that; excluding children, of course. "Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?" chirped the skinny ginger in a tight, black uniform, interrupting her improvised migraine therapy. Her eyes scanned Kitty like laser to which the blonde simply shrugged. People always seemed to have a hard time finding out what gender she was; the complete lack of voluptuous tissues on her chest being a huge help on the matter. Not until she speaks, at least. That's when a voice sweeter and more feminine than she'd like would spill out, redeemed only by being riddled with curses most unbecoming of a lady. But what did anyone care about that?

"How you doin'," she nodded with a tight-lipped smile as she walked towards the Men's section. She picked out a practical-looking pair that could be worn both casually and formally. It's cheaper that way and less clutter around the house. But since it's a birthday, it wouldn't hurt to be just a tad bit generous. I'll just work myself to death for the rest of the month she smiled reassuringly, in that suicidal kind of way.

There's a fancy pair of loafers.

"This one, please."
"It's a seven."
"Mm."

Having the same shoe size as her brother helped speed things up a bit. Not to mention her style wasn't all that different from her male siblings'. Kitty seated herself on the low bench and carefully removed her own boots. The ginger handed her the first half and laid down the other neatly on the floor. She bent down and reached for it, trying it on for size. It fit perfectly on one foot, but the other half of the pair was pretty problematic. Kitty removed her socks to remedy the situation.

It was typical of her to be oblivious of her environment when she's focused on one thing and one thing only: to make that shoe fit 'cause the next size will add a few more bucks beyond her budget. That's when it happened. A quick swoop brushed on the side of her rib made her lose her balance, but not enough to topple her over until shoe boxes started falling over head, too, and a foot--pretty sure that was a foot--slapped hard on her ear and next thing she knew, her bottoms were throbbing quite as badly as that stubborn headache that managed to come back again.

"Sweet-baby-jesus-fuc---owww" That was an incredible blow to the head. Aren't shoe stores supposed to be hazard free? Perfect, just perfect. No amount of rubs on the head nor bottocks could fix this. Now her entire body ached as she scrambled to get back up on her feet and have a look at the damages. There was a boy on his back, too, who was undoubtedly the culprit, judging by the amount of mess scattered around him. She felt lightheaded, and the fact that the other people in the store have started to crowd the area made it worse. She let out a little laugh, then turned to him,"Whoa, buddy. Easy," she managed to say, leaning on the saleslady who was now trying very hard to keep her standing.

words: 800+
tags: febs
notes: no idea how it got that long. xD

and i never listen to anyone

"'rightit'sfinethanks," she said too quickly the words came out sounding right tit is fine, thanks. Her bones, brittle as they were, needed a little rearranging. Kitty nodded reassuringly at the lady and sat herself back down on the stool and looked down at the new boots she almost forgot she had on to check if it had somehow acquired scratches. We wouldn't want to have to pay for something we didn't even get to use, now, do we?

A ball of salty saliva was starting to form in her throat, as what usually happens when your head's spinning and you feel like throwing up; but she forced it down as best she could before it bubbles up into a wet disaster. "Is there some way you can get me a glass of water, by any chance?" she requested as politely as possible, lifting her chin to meet the saleslady's eyes, as was her way when the chances of getting what she wanted was a point under forty percent. Of course it was a shoe-store, and the lady simply frowned and shook her head, completely unfazed. How is that even an answer? "Huh, guess not," she trailed off.

When she came to, Kitty begrudgingly and with an audible sigh, glanced over her shoulder to get a last look at the dumb kid who managed to trip over someone in a store with a relatively large walking space. He appeared to be in good shape and without the slightest intention of coming up to answer for what he did. But then again, it was an accident so really, did she want an apology? No. Unnecessary. She couldn't be bothered to stand up again and ask for one, to be honest. Ironic as it may seem, rudeness was New Yorkers' way of being polite. What could be nicer a gesture than staying out of each other's hair, eh. The blonde shrugged and simply took out the ear plugs dangling from underneath her hoodie and reached into its front pockets to turn on her ipod.

Except it wasn't there.

Huh. Oh yeah, a smoke after I get out of this place, she mused, clenching her teeth. Before dealing with the matter, Kitty secured her purchase by removing the shoes and handing it over to the girl who has been evidently impatiently waiting for her decision. "I'll take these," she said without looking up. The lady took them promptly and proceeded to the counter to process the payment. She then put on her socks, then old boots, and straightened herself out.

That was pretty clever; unoriginal, but effective. Nobody could be that much of a clutz after all. Walking over to the dark-haired troublemaker, she seated herself beside him and wrapped an arm over his shoulders. Quite a bad move, considering petty thieves usually carried with them small knives that could easily pierce right into her rib in that position. But pretty sure this one had no plans on going to jail, did he?

"Let's have it, smartypants."

words: 513
tags: febs
notes: harumph

and i never listen to anyone

There was a brief pause that caught the entire shop. Kitty felt eyes on them and she had to inhale, her nose filled with the disctinct smell of leather, buffer polished mixed with that unknown, cool scent air conditioners always seemed to emit, and then exhale, getting slightly nervous and a little terrified at the same time though her face showed none of it. At least she hoped it didn't. She thought it was best not to look at the boy in the eyes, trusting this will all go as peacefully as possible so she can get this stupid shopping over with. Her fingers began to unconsciously tap on her knees, waiting for an agreeable response from the hooded figure who kept peculiarly quiet for a good ten seconds. The nerve to steal from someone in broad daylight! And to not do it properly, puh-lease. If anything, this boy needed some training.

For a split-second Kitty wondered if any of her siblings ever did this sort of thing, got caught and just never mentioned it to her. She frowned, deciding on giving them some good tongue-lashing tonigh---shoes. On her lap. Then a movement quick as lightning left her arm suspended mid-air, not quite yet aware its subject has now vanished. Kitty bent forward, her jaw pretty much on the floor as she followed the boy with her eyes. "Wut--" she croaked.

Utterly confused, her eyes shifted on the lady's shoes with mouths directed at her screaming silent O's now sitting prettily atop her fishnets. She gave out a small laugh then charged towards the bathrooms, too, stopping right in front of the men's room's narrow door. "Is it your first time, kid?" she called through the thin wooden barricade, quite teasingly as she leaned against it with her fist. Only an amateur would opt for something but the open entrance and into the forgiving cloaks of the big wide world.

"Hey! Just give the damn thing back and we're done here!"

words: 337
tags: febs
notes: harumph

and i never listen to anyone