alwaysroomforhope | (no subject)

Sokka is worried. Not because of the leather - leather is useful and soft and comfortable and, as Goldy had demonstrated earlier, can be strangely sexy.

He's more worried about Steph's Intrigued Look, eyeing her when she stops in front of the store's window.

"...what would you even need a pair of assless pants for?"

"Me, nothing," Steph points out, leaning in to peer at the leathergoods more closely. "You, maybe..."

And giggles.

"I'm looking at the jackets really. Leather's good." And protective, and she has a couple of jumpropes in her backpack just itching to be tried out. "I think that one in bright pink would totally be your colour."

"Why are you always trying to make me look stupid?" Sokka demands. He is totally not smirking.

No, f'realz.

Frowning a little, Sokka follows her gaze to the jackets, head tilted. "They don't look all that comfortable, though."

"Protective, though," Steph explains, with a totally-not-smirk of her own. "I mean, in case you should accidentally get pushed over. Or something. Leather's practically compulsory for bike riding back on my home world."

Not so much here, if only because the citizens of Metropolis have bigger things to worry about these days.

"And I'm not! ... because I don't have to try." She elbows him happily.

Sokka very lovingly places a hand on the side of her head.

And pushes.

And also laughs, grinning and grabbing her hand if it looks like she's actually about to fall. "You keep making me wonder why I hang out with you - that's probably not a good thing."

"Eeep!"

... but she gets Sokka-hands out of it, so she's grinning! A Sokka-hand, moreover, which she can use to pull him into the store.

"You hang out with me because I'm the only one who lets you express your secret innate desire to wear assless chaps," she informs him solemnly, shoving the door open.

The inside of the shop is on the dark and crowded side, and smells heavily of leather; the old man who approaches them is only a little taller than Steph but quite a lot rounder, with a cheerful smile and bright, intelligent eyes.

"Noo, no," he orders her in a heavy accent. "Those pants, not for him! No, he need jacket, yes? I find you both jackets."

He beams at them.

"You trust me!"

The appearance and mannerisms of this leathergoods storeman is ~~shamelessly stolen from That Guy In The Leathergoods Stall At The Vic Markets.~~ purely fictional, bearing no resemblance to real human beings living or dead ~~if only because I only met him once~~.

Edited 2008-05-17 03:53 (UTC)

Dragged, Sokka looks around at all of the leather with slightly wide eyes. He's never seen so much of it before, not tanned like this. The leather he's used to seeing in abundance is soft and died blue, edged with fur.

And all the pants had asses.

"Damn right not for me," Sokka agrees with the shopkeep, giving Steph a slightly smug smirk. If he's still holding her hand, it's only because she hasn't let go yet. As for trusting the old man, Sokka shrugs and glances at Steph for answers.

Money? Pfft. Who needs it?

"Not at all, no," the bossy little man says firmly, making pushing motions at Steph's hand that's stretched towards the assless chaps. "Here, you ... hmm. You look like ... blue. Blue suit you, yes?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, bustling off to pick up a handful of jackets from the motorbike gear section.

Back behind them, the shop door bell tings again, a couple of men in shirtsleeves wandering in and nodding cheerfully at the owner, who waves a greeting. The jackets the old man is carrying rustle cheerfully.

Steph raises an eyebrow at Sokka, bemused herself, particularly when the guy returns holding up about twelve jackets. He lifts one finger to indicate that they should stand still and wait while he holds up one after the other, looking from jacket to Sokka and either tossing the leather aside or setting it carefully on the nearest rack. He ends up with two possibilities.

"Now -- now. This one, it perfect for you. Okay? This one, also, it perfect. You try on, show us one, two. Then you choose. I know leather. These, perfect"

Steph gives him a shrug, grinning now. "You better do what the guy says, right?"

"But--"

There is no pity, sympathy, or anything resembling helpfulness to be found in either Steph's eyes or the owner's. Sokka looks between the both of them, and manages a weak protest of, "I really don't need a jacket..."

But damn are they cool looking.

Shopping!!!

"You try anyway, yes?" the shopkeeper insists, putting the two jackets in his arms smugly. "Then you decide. Need, want, maybe just you think about, and come back. But you try now!"

There's definitely no sympathy from Steph. She's giggling, bemused and slightly charmed. "Hey, at least they're not assless pants?"

"I still want to know what those are for, if this isn't some kind of sex toy shop," Sokka replies, grinning at her now. The owner gets another little glance before he shrugs and stretches out a hand for the jacket.

Really, it's comfortable outside, pretty warm, and he's fine in his jeans and t-shirt.

But it's so cool looking.

"They're for, like, cowboys and stuff," Steph explains with a grin -- which doesn't fade when he puts the first jacket on.

Because it's totally cool looking.

And hot. Really hot.

"So they can put them over their regular pants for riding, and get protected. Hey --" this to the shopkeeper, who is beaming smugly -- "if he falls from, uh, a height, at great speed, what kind of protection is this one?"

He quirks an eyebrow at her in return, amused and suspicious. "He fall fast, from bike, no? Clumsy? Ah, perhaps you get a car? This one, not so good, no panels for armour, see? This one--" indicating the one Sokka is wearing -- "this one good. No break, no tear, keep he skin all in one piece for you, yes?"

"Good," Steph says, grinning. So Innocent.

"I like my skin all in one piece," Sokka agrees, but his glance back at Steph is suspicious. "What are you wanting to do? I don't know how to ride your bike, I just fixed it."

As for the jacket - which is so cool looking - Sokka pulls it off sadly and hands it back to the owner with a small smile. "We're just looking, though. Thanks."

Because NO MONEY and he isn't Katara and this guy isn't a pirate, so no stealing either.

"He's just looking," Steph agrees, slipping one strap of her backpack off so she can swing the bag around and get into it for her wallet. "Cos he's slack and doesn't have a job, except, oh wait, full-time engineering and babysitting and repairing things. Me, I get to hang out in a bar all day and get paid for it, so I'm buying."

Her movement attracts the attention of the other two shoppers, a pair of tall, bulky men. One of them glances at the small, cute blonde girl who's just announced that she's loaded, and then at the other, meaningfully.

The other moves casually back towards the door of the shop, apparently intent on the coats hanging by the door.

The first wanders idly towards the counter to look at the wallets and belts there.

"You like, you buy," the owner is telling Steph happily, oblivious to his other customers. "He very handsome, yes? Make him look very smart!"

Steph grins. "He can use all the help he can get, it's true," she says solemnly, smirking at Sokka.

Smacking at Steph and looking suitably embarrassed at the owner, Sokka shakes his head and tries to hand the jacket back over. "No, that's okay, really. Get her a jacket, she needs all the help she can get, too."

The other two shoppers are suitably ignored. Sokka has other things to worry about, like excited shopkeepers and a snarky Steph.

"I am perfect just the way I am," Steph informs him seriously, flipping her wallet from hand to hand. "Go on, please? You can pretend it's payback for all the times I kicked your ass."

This is totally a good solution, right?

The shopkeep bustles behind the counter, amused. "She win, you know," he tells Sokka. "I know bossy women. Always, she win."

Steph darts a suspicious glance at him, not sure if she likes this tack.

The taller of the two other shoppers drifts a little closer, still ostensibly inspecting wallets.

... until suddenly there's the muzzle of a pistol under Steph's chin and bulky, smelly arms around her neck, and a satisfied smirk on the guy's face. The other one slides the shop door closed with a final sort of clink.

"Empty the till," the first one suggests mildly to the shopkeeper. "Fast, please."

Eyes widen sharply, but Sokka's movements are slow when he looks over at Steph. He looks worried, scared, nervous.

But he's judging the angle of the gun, the grip the man has, the stance of the guy by the door.

He sets the jacket down on the counter and glances at the shopkeep. Nothing stupid is going to be done, right?

Steph herself is trying to look scared, but mostly she looks kind of annoyed. Why do they always go for the girl? Also, it's really uncomfortable having her head forced back like this.

The shopkeeper, on the other hand, looks flat-out terrified.

"Please, no hurt her!" he exclaims, scrambling for the drawer. "I give you, I give, but no blood in my store!"

"We don't intend to hurt anyone," the shorter of the two says, striding back over to the little group by the till. "Unless you do anything dumb. We just want the cash."

"Is not so much, I'm sorry --" Scrambling hands spill coins over the counter, the shopkeeper furious and frightened. "Is my family's groceries, we have not much."

"You run a leathergoods store in the middle of Metropolis," the one with the gun points out, bored. "You can't be exactly poor. Hand it over. And you, kid --"

This to Sokka.

"Don't do anything dumb. We won't hurt your girlfriend as long as you just stay still and shut up."

Steph rolls her eyes, managing to indicate to Sokka that he should be more worried about her hurting them, but says nothing.

Sokka was already perfectly aware of that, Steph, thank you. He gives the man who'd spoken to him a nervous look and takes a step back toward the counter, one hand resting beside the coins.

"Please, don't hurt her-- look, we've never even been here before and she's lying, she works at a bar, we've barely got anything, seriously, please don't-"

Don't make Steph giggle! It is bad for the acting!

She shuts her mouth quick when the guy looks suspiciously at her, though, and pretends she was crying.

Or something.

gigglegiggle.

"Shut up," the guy says, shoving her towards the counter too. "Put it in a bag, buddy. Check him too, bet he's got a wallet somewhere."

The gesture that accompanies this is a hand waving in Sokka's direction.

The hand that's holding the gun. Which means, for a moment, it's pointed at nobody in particular.

How convenient!

He didn't really need that wrist, did he? It's a great move he's always wanted to try, it was part of training at the apartments and he's never really gotten the chance since guns tended to be far away when they were shooting at him. So the look on Sokka's face is nearly gleeful when he actually gets the opportunity to grab the gun, twist and snap the wrist it's currently attached to, and point it squarely at the guy's face.

:D!

"I don't have a wallet. Let her go, please."

Edited 2008-05-18 03:47 (UTC)

Steph, meanwhile, goes gigglegiggleOOH OPPORTUNITY! The guy has an arm around her neck, which was kind of silly of him, because when he's distracted by Sokka breaking his other wrist (a forgiveable distraction, really) it makes it very easy for Steph to grab his arm, yank it out straight with his palm up and his elbow just above her shoulder, and then bend over -- the effect of which is to send the much bigger, heavier man flying over her shoulder and directly into his friend beside Sokka.

"Let who go?" she asks, grinning. "Quick, they're getting up. You call the cops, okay, sir?"

The shopkeeper is staring blankly, but at Steph's authoritative tone he nods obediently and scurries back towards the phone on the back wall.

Beside Sokka, the two thugs groan and try to disentangle themselves from one another, the injured one swearing viciously and constantly.

Sokka is having a hard time not giggling either, grinning brilliantly at Steph. "That was fun," he says cheerfully, setting the gun on top of the counter and turning to make sure neither of the thieves get up. "We should come into the city for this all the time."

"Oooh, can we, can we?" Steph beams at him.

One of the guys tries to get up, blinks at Sokka towering over him, and promptly collapses back down again meekly, which only makes Steph giggle more.

The shopkeep hangs up the phone after some rapid conversation, turning back to stare at the men on the floor and then at the two teenagers who're apparently having the time of their lives, with a rather helpless expression.

"The police, they come this evening, they say. Is very busy for them, monsters and refugees. You ... you are karate?"

"That's hours from now," Sokka points out, frowning again. That's no good! They have things to do, places to go, they can't babysit two amateur thieves all night! IS NO GOOD.

As for karate, Sokka just grins and shrugs, pointing at Steph. "Uh, I think she knows that one."