(no subject)

[porcelainpride]

[Kurt is looking particularly wintry here, despite it still being very gray and bland, rather than anything remotely white and seasonal. He has an absurd knitted hat on his head (matching scarf is a given) and he's tromping around town with a look of barely contained glee. Pun unintended.]

It's colder. Like, not the sort of cold it's normally like, the miserable, damp, disgusting cold.

It's winter-cold.




Christmas cold. [:D]

Comments

[whalegod]

What is chris mass?

[porcelainpride]

Christmas. It's a holiday.

[whalegod]

Ah, I see. A winter holiday? Is there a feast? I do love feasts.

[porcelainpride]

Usually. Sometimes there's more than one.

[preytosociety]

That hat is adorable. Where did you get it?

[Forget holiday cheer and the temperature, look at that fashion statement! It's so off-beat that it's totally in]

[porcelainpride]

[Oh, now he's just going to preen forever and never stop.]

Zara Jacquard. Isn't it divine? I'm so happy it was in my bag when I ended up here.

[preytosociety]

[Lydia is more than okay with this.]

Gorgeous. I'm so jealous. You have that and I'm stuck with... whatever's in this closet. [That belonged to a couple in their late thirties. It's not pleasant.]

I'm scared to look at outerwear. I just can't bring myself to open these garment bags.

[porcelainpride]

I was fortunate in headgear at the least, but I left behind all my McQueen and Marc Jacobs pieces, not to mention my boot collection. And I can't even talk about my Demeulemeester without tearing up.

[He frowns, wrinkling his nose, because ewww, nasty dusty old people clothes. But then he'll summon up a smile, just for her.] Well, vintage is always in. And some of the pieces might be serviceable with some altering. You have a figure from the gods above; I refuse to see it shrouded in muumuus and ill-fitting pantsuits.

[preytosociety]

Kurt... you are so strong. [And tugging on her heart strings. THOSE LABELS!]

Hmm. This is true. On all accounts, actually. But I don't know a thing about tailoring.

[porcelainpride]

[A single solitary tear for the beautiful fashions left behind.]

That's why the gods of fashion brought us together. My wardrobe is an eclectic blend of designer pieces snagged off of eBay last minute, and thrift shop refugees rescued and repurposed by yours truly. It's hard to satisfy a passion for fashion on a mechanics salary.

[preytosociety]

[It is in that moment that Lydia's entire face lights up with a genuine smile. Kurt, you perfect human being. You'll never get rid of her now.]

Well, you know what they say. Great minds think alike, join forces, and look absolutely stunning as a result.

[porcelainpride]

[Kurt will count that as a profound success and beam right back at her.]

And live happily every after in jaunty hats~

[preytosociety]

Jaunty hats, and...

[She gets up to brave the closet, unzipping the first garment bag to reveal...]

Trench coats. Yaaaay. [That was not a yay of joy. It has potential, but not much.] I guess I'll just have to keep looking. You better not stay out too long, by the way. You'll probably catch a cold and I am not the caretaker type.

[porcelainpride]

Trench coats are splendid. They can be hemmed and brought in and bedazzled and become impossibly stylish. Or if they aren't salvageable, you can turn them into a high-collared vest.

[He makes a face at her, turning the collar of his coat up.] I never catch colds.

[preytosociety]

Never say never. I bet you just jinxed yourself.

audio;

[aintdancing]

Ain't winter yet where I'm from. [ Have a distinct southern drawl, Kurt. ]

audio;

[porcelainpride]

Oh, me neither. It's summer, actually.

But I like winter better.

[porcelainpride]

Could I possibly get any more jinxed?

audio;

[aintdancing]

Can't grow nothin'.

audio;

[porcelainpride]

...I suppose not. But that isn't much of a concern here.

audio;

[aintdancing]

[ There's a grunt on Forrest's end. Then, silence. After the seconds tick by he realizes he probably has to actually explain himself. ]

Where d'you get food from? Farms.

audio;

[porcelainpride]

I know that. [Kurt sounds mildy indignant.] But not here.

audio;

[aintdancing]

[ There's another long stretch of silence. Then where do you get your food? ]

Y'need a farm?

Re: audio;

[porcelainpride]

...we might. Food's starting to stop appearing.

audio;

[aintdancing]

[ Another grunt. ] Can't grow much here. Not now.

audio;

[porcelainpride]

Can we...make greenhouses, maybe?

[preytosociety]

By saying that? Yes. Nice work.

[porcelainpride]

I didn't peg you as a suspicious type.

audio;

[aintdancing]

Haven't done it in a while.

Y'interested in helpin'?

audio;

[porcelainpride]

If it'll benefit the community, then yes. I am.

audio;

[aintdancing]

[ He doesn't wait as long as he has before, this time. ] House 16. Come when you can.

Re: audio;

[porcelainpride]

O-Oh. All right. I'll bring my work coveralls.

audio;

[aintdancing]

Yep. [ And with that, Forrest hangs up. Come when you're ready, Kurt. ]

[porcelainpride]

[Well, it isn't like there's anything else to do...

Ten minutes later, he's timidly knocking on the door.]

action;

[aintdancing]

[ Forrest opens it, and Kurt's greeted with tom hardy in a cardigan a rather intimidating sight, even though he's only 5'10".

But he does seem relatively impressed Kurt's actually shown up this quickly. He's eager, or bored, or maybe both, and Forrest puts his hat on, nodding at him. Seemingly waiting for either Kurt to introduce himself or for him to go on his way.

...Yeah, he's not very talkative. ]

Re: action;

[porcelainpride]

[Kurt blinks a little, looking up at Forrest and clearing his throat.]

Ah. Hello. Kurt Hummel. [Sticks his hand out to shake.]

action;

[aintdancing]

[ Forrest looks down at the other. Scrawny. City-boy. Thin and delicate and Forrest looks him up and down, contemplating if it's even worth it. ]

Y'ever worked before?

[porcelainpride]

[Kurt draws back, looking offended.]

Yes. I can change a tire in less than five minutes.

[aintdancing]

Y'got a car? [ the mild surprise on his face shows, even for someone normally as expressionless as him. If he catches onto Kurt's offended look--which he did--he doesn't make a deal out of it. He does, however, shrug slightly. ]

Hard workin' people don't look like you where I come from. But if you help me dig the foundation, we can work somethin' out.

[ Shit, Kurt's just a kid. Forrest is probably going to try to make him tea and have him stay and warm up. For all of his 1930s criminal, he's awfully overprotective of the little ones. ]

[porcelainpride]

At home, yes. My dad owns a repair shop.

[Kurt scrunches up his nose briefly -- ew, digging -- but he does want to be helpful. So he puts on a smile and nods.] Looks can be deceiving. Hand me a shovel and point the way.

[aintdancing]

Don't care what you look like. [ And in Kurt's hand, a shovel goes. ] If Y'can work, y'can work. Don't see no point otherwise. [ Because Forrest wasn't exactly a tolerant person, but if Kurt looked like a girl and could still work, than so be it. ]

C'mere. [ And with the crook of his head, he starts walking. ] What house're ya in?

[porcelainpride]

[Kurt stumbles a little, then straightens up, following after Forrest and breathing a sigh of relief that he picked his work jeans today.]

House 17. We're neighbors. [:D?]