Participants:
| Scene Title | New Clothes, Old Friends |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Jack goes to his favorite tailor to get some new clothes. |
| Location | Habitual Habiliments |
| Date | Jul 8, 1995 |
| Watch For | Abnormal responses to small talk. |
| Logger | Jack |
Times are getting tougher and certain areas of the wizarding world reflect the serious downturn taking place. Which is to say, the interior of this fop shop hasn't changed. It's still nauseatingly over decorated, and the strong smell of perfume, or incense, take your pick. The shopkeeper is nowhere in sight, so this is either a slow day or he's working on something in the backroom. Not even Aries the krup is in his basket.
Not even for a favorite customer? Jack steps into the building, looking tired. He is well-dressed, knowing better than to set foot into this shop without looking at least halfway presentable. He frowns as he looks around. "Morty?" He eyes Aries' basket. "Hmmm." He tries a little louder. "Morty?"
There's a rustle from the backroom and the sound of a few things toppling over. "Coming!" sings out the falsely cheery and overly effeminate voice. Dressed as impeccably gaudy as ever, Mortimer sweeps out from behind the curtains, Aries tucked under his arm. "Aaah! Monsieur Noble! You grace my shop again! What can I do for you?"
Jack watches the man step out with a small smile playing across his face. Some things never change. And may it be ever so. "I'm in need of several things, Morty. I'm headed out of country for … well, probably for quite a while, and I need to get a few outfits to take with me. Both kinds, if you will." Meaning, both Muggle and wizarding. "I've got some work…" He's got work clothes, so that's set. Besides, he wouldn't come here for those. "I need a few outfits for public presentation…" He thinks. "Some of my previous ones have gone quite out of style." His smile grows. He knows how to talk to his favorite tailor. "Make me look good."
"I trust your mother is well? It's always a sad day she's not gracing my humble business, even if it's just for tea," Mortimer says in an effort to be even more cheery than usual. Perhaps somethings do change. Or he could just be lonely. Morty waggles a finger at Jack, "You naughty boy, leaving the country." Aries is set down so that the wizard can set to working on the order. Pursing his lips, Mort gives Jack a playful swat, "Some clothes never go out of style and you know I'll put the icing on the cake of perfection that you are."
"Mum's alright, yeah. She's been busy with charities and everything." Not to mention the craziness that's decscending slowly upon them. But that's just it. Not to mention it. Jack grins. "Oh, I know. Some pieces are just classics." He waggles his eyebrows, teasing the man a bit. "Well, you know how it is. Work. Takes me everywhere in the world I never wanted to go." He shrugs. "Things have been rough, so I thought I'd take up my friend on his offer. He's been bugging me about it for months."
Mortimer laughs in a high falsetto that could not be the man's natural tone. "Let me just get your measurements, I would simply die if something changed and I handed you an outfit that did not fit properly. Any particular color scheme, or shall we just spin the color wheel to fit your season?" You can bet your sweet britches that Morty does peoples' colors. "Where is it you're heading to? Or can you say?" Even as he prattles on, he's already got out the measuring tape and it's advancing on Jack. "Arms out please."
Jack sticks his arms out gracefully. "Bucharest." He would shrug again, but the measuring tape is at work, and that'd be a clear offense. "Well, we could look at colors. I do want a couple seasonal outfits. And it will be extremely cold there, of course, even during the summer time." At least that's what he remembers. "Shouldn't be much changed since my last visit, Mort, but yeah. That wouldn't do at all." Jack likes his clothes to fit just right.
"Ah, never been there myself. I did spend a lot of time in France." And so he likes to tell everyone. Constantly. It's just how Mortimer is. The measuring tape works busily around Jack, all the measurements updated and notated. "You'll need a wool suit, or at least a full length wool cape. I'm thinking in rust.. or a deep blue. The blue will go with your eyes, while the rust will look amazing on you." The measuring tape rolls itself up and color swatches are summoned quickly and held up against Jack. "SO. Let's talk colors and fabrics."
"Those colors sound just fine." Jack nods, having heard all about Mortimer's time in France, both first- and second-hand. "Well, what do you suggest? I know wool is a good choice. Maybe the same fabric as that last winter piece you did for me? The dark blue one? I think I wore it one of those times I had to sit and listen to the Wizengamot." He rolls his eyes. "As for colors… well, I do need a new black good robe. Not absolutely top-drawer, but near enough. I ripped my last one…" He looks sheepish. "Ended up doing a little work when I wasn't expecting it."
Mortimer tuts at Jack. "Black. So plain. Oh it can be dressed up but you're a man who should wear colors! Personally, I'd recommend both, but you do know how to sport a good shade of blue, so I recommend a good wool robe in blue.. This shade." He points to one that's a bit like United States Air Force blue. "While I like variety, one should wear colors that suit them best and with pride." Some parchment and a quill zip through the air and are snatched up by Morty as he prepares an order slip for Jack, "So one good wool robe for cold weather, one black robe, and how many outfits?"
Jack chuckles. He's heard this every time. Well, almost every time. "But black is one of those colors I can wear well…" He shakes his head. It's an argument he'll never win. He murmurs his agreement to the offered robes, and thinks for a long moment, stroking his chin. "Three, I think. Three good dressy outfits." He smiles. "Maybe four, if you can twist my arm." Which usually isn't that hard to do. He starts to say something, to make small talk, but then clamps his mouth shut on the words. It looked to be an uncomfortable topic. It takes a long moment of silence before his second attempt, which is really quite lame. "How's business going for you, then?"
"I'll make four, and they'll be so gorgeous you won't be able to turn them down. The witches will already chase after you, but even more so after you're dressed in my designs." Mortimer notates down the order and he's already working up designs and colors in his head. An overly large and toothy smile flashes at Jack, "Business is well." There's something about the flashing of the white teeth that seems nervous. "Everyone needs flashy clothes and to look fabulous. When are you leaving for your business trip? That way I know how to prioritize your order."
Jack hadn't decided on an exact date yet, but as he stands here, he's feeling the need to leave sooner rather than later. "Probably later this week, I think." The mention of witches chasing him would normally get a sparkling smile and an eyebrow waggle, but right now, it just gets a solid nod of agreement. "I'm sure they will," he says, softly. "And of course! Everyone looks good in a design from here." He does summon the irrepressible grin for that.
Mortimer mmmmms, "Things not going so well with the ladies then, ah, such things happen. What a pity." Mortimer waves his wand across the parchment and 'PRIORITY' appears in bold red letters on the order form. "You'll have your garments within the week and you will love them! They will be suitable for the occasions and the chillier weather. Hopefully it will not be as wet as here." A wink is flashed from beneath his perfectly groomed eyebrows, "I do strive to be the best."
Jack completely ignores the comments about 'the ladies', and nods. "Thank you. I appreciate it. I've been meaning to get in here and get this taken care of, but it seems things keep coming up, and then the opportunity for this trip came along, and I thought, 'What better time to get a few new threads?'" He grins. "I definitely recommend you to all my friends, Morty." And being a popular guy, that's a lot of people. "Ok, so payment on delivery, correct? Or would you prefer I come back in on say… Thursday to try them on and let you see how they fit?" He's done things both ways. Having Jack's measurements means Morty will probably be spot on in the designs. But it's an option.
"I know the feeling. It's easy to be distracted these days." For a moment, Mortimer's effeminately voiced facade slips but it's right back in place. A smile spreads beneath his thin mustache, "Whatever excuse works when it comes to new clothing! And I appreciate the word of mouth, my line of work is my life and passion!" It's not exactly low profile, but it does give him a reputation of a pansy to hide behind. "Oh try them on when Thursday comes around, we'll see what you like, and you can pay then. You know I'm flexible."
Jack nods, finding the terms agreeable. "I know." And once again, where that might contain some semblance of flirting in it, this time, it's just spoken plainly, as to a friend. Which is appropriate as well, as Jack considers Morty a friend. "I saw Madame Swanson's new robes the other day. They looked like something of yours. Were they?" He'll keep his opinion on them to himself until he knows that they're his creation. He does ask one question, though. "Morty, Rosie hasn't been in here, has she?" He hasn't seen her for a while, and wonders if she's alright. He's sent her an owl, but it came back unopened. Big brother worries.
Mortimer snorts in an undignified manner, "Madame Swanson did not like my prices, and she said my choice in fabric was limited. I threw her from my shop for her insults!" The wizard's nostrils flare like an angered bull's. About to launch into a rant and tirade, he's derailed by the other question, "Miss Siobhan Noble? Why no, I've not seen her since I designed her ball gown. Is something the matter?"
"Hmmm." That is worrisome. Usually when school ends, Mum's dragged her in here at least once for a new robe or three. "Well, she and I … Well, that is to say… I was a bit stupid, I think, and she's decided not to talk to me. She's probably alright, and I'm just overly worried. You know. Big brother and all that." He strokes his chin again, this time in worry. "Well, no matter. It'll mend, probably." He really really hopes. "Well, it looked like you could have designed it, except that the color was just … off. You wouldn't have made that apprentice mistake." He realizes it's flattery, but it's also an old game. "Thank you again, kind sir and I'll be in here Thursday to try the new outfits on. I'm rather excited." He does love looking good, and Morty knows his stuff.
"It will all be fine. The Nobles can't stay estranged from each other for long," Mortimer says, waving it off as a simple sibling upset. "Of course it'll mend, your family is close." Then he puffs up like an offended hen, "Hmph. I saw those robes, I would never of put her in that shade. The hems were also clumsily sewn. Well she got what she paid for and I hope she's happy. She'll not be welcome in my shop again unless she begs on bended knee." Shelving the offense for the moment, he nods to Jack, "And you shall have your garments on Thursday."
Jack nods. He is grateful for the assurance. He's optimistic that he'll be able to write her from Romania and everything will be fine. "Thank you." There is real warmth in his tone, and his grin returns. "I need to go tie up a few more things… try to get a hold of Miss Sagace and …" He's mentally ticking these things off in his mind. It's an old routine, but there are a few new steps now. "I'll see you Thursday, sir. Have a grand day." And he's stepping out the door into the street, headed down the road to the next stop.
After Jack leaves, Mortimer produces his wand and gives it a few elaborate flicks and swishes towards the front entrance. A few wards are cast, mainly alarms. Something he should have done sooner since he's worried about his own hide.
Long-awaited scene helping to set up a couple things.