[ The CERES marketplace has a novelty that has yet to wear off on Pyrrha. She’s too levelheaded, fortunately, for a shopping addiction but there are some days when she skirts the line, ducking into the more upscale boutiques to admire the different cuts and colours. There’s no harm in trying things on, at least; even if she can’t afford to walk out with anything more than what she walked in with. With a few sweaters under her arm, she makes used of the closest changing room. Rather misguidedly, the individual stalls themselves lack mirrors, while the larger changing room foyer is lined with them.
Pyrrha stands in front of one now, smoothing out the few wrinkles from her dress. Silken and snug, it’s a bit too impractical for her tastes. Consideration lasts only a few more moments and then she turns, planning to shed the dress and forget about it—
She’s not prepared for a short, younger girl glaring at her from across the changing lobby. No, not her specifically, but her - chest?
Caught off guard, she gives a polite nod and an awkward smile.
(Something about Anise’s glare glues Pyrrha’s feet to that spot, as if she is incapable of moving without permission. Count the seconds as they add up.) ]
[Oh, Anise was glaring alright. She'd come here to try on some cute clothes and check if her chest had grown any - it must have, right! - only to see this hussy putting on a dress that was too tight.]
[Grrrr, if she'd had those melons....]
[But oops, she's been caught! She's quick to school her expression from frosted and deadly into adorable and peppy, and she bounces right over]
Pyrrha doesn’t allow herself to look quite as wary as she is as Anise intrudes on her space. Nor does she feel the dress is, as Anise’s bracket narration put it, ‘too tight,’ thank you very much. It’s just. Impractical for combat. Yeah. That’s it. Pyrrha’s smile is carefully managed and nearly ambiguous, but that’s owing more to sheer bewilderment than anything else. ]
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Pyrrha stands in front of one now, smoothing out the few wrinkles from her dress. Silken and snug, it’s a bit too impractical for her tastes. Consideration lasts only a few more moments and then she turns, planning to shed the dress and forget about it—
She’s not prepared for a short, younger girl glaring at her from across the changing lobby. No, not her specifically, but her - chest?
Caught off guard, she gives a polite nod and an awkward smile.
(Something about Anise’s glare glues Pyrrha’s feet to that spot, as if she is incapable of moving without permission. Count the seconds as they add up.) ]
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[Grrrr, if she'd had those melons....]
[But oops, she's been caught! She's quick to school her expression from frosted and deadly into adorable and peppy, and she bounces right over]
Woooow, you look so pretty! I'm jealous! ♪
[SHE'S TRYING TO SOUND PLAYFUL]
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. . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . .Well, that happened.
Pyrrha doesn’t allow herself to look quite as wary as she is as Anise intrudes on her space. Nor does she feel the dress is, as Anise’s bracket narration put it, ‘too tight,’ thank you very much. It’s just. Impractical for combat. Yeah. That’s it. Pyrrha’s smile is carefully managed and nearly ambiguous, but that’s owing more to sheer bewilderment than anything else. ]
Oh, well. Thank you very much, miss.