ArchivedLogs:Fairy Tale Reprieve

Fairy Tale Reprieve
Dramatis Personae Emma, Nox	2013-03-23 The girls take a day.
Location NYC - Bergdorf Goodman - Fifth Avenue
On Fifth Avenue, and boasting well over one hundred years of fashion history, Bergdorf Goodman stands as a monument to shoppers all around the world. It's marble face is familiar from many movies, but its interior halls boast clothes from major labels, and enough accessories and bling to rival the neon night lights. The building, having not only survived the Great Depression, but having flourished, is pristine and beautiful, with tall ceilings and artistic designs that make any shopping experience more like a visit to a cathedral or museum rather than a consumer's paradise. Few properly appreciate the amount of effort needed to prepare for an event as large as Norman Osborn's upcoming gala. Emma, naturally, has a rare perspective--and so very much to do. However, having volunteered to assist Nox in attiring herself for the event, the shadow lady took advantage by suggesting they meet on Saturday to do some shopping--though her invitation was of course peppered with apologies that she was unable to contribute to the financial outlay needed for equip a homeless woman for a ball. She has at least taken Emma's advice to heart. Nox shows no sign of fluster or shyness as she steps into Bergdorf Goodman with Ms. Frost. She is once again in her little black dress, the black trench, a pair of ballet flats for her feet. She carries no purse but wears Jackie O sunglasses to protect her eyes from the lights. It's difficult to tell if she notices the heads turning their way as they arrive, with her eyes hidden as they are. Her smile maintains its small but gentle curve. "This...is very impressive," she murmurs. "I have never been here before." Emma works at least six days a week, so is dressed more for the office than a girl's day out with Mr. Osborn's party guest, but it does not seem to cause any problems. She slips her sunglasses into her purse and strides confidently into the hall. Instead of diverting to one department or another, so she heads over to a reception desk and checks in. "Yes, this is Ms. Frost and Ms. Nox here for our scheduled shopping for Hellfire," she informs the woman, presenting her with a business card to back up her story. She smiles as she holds her hands in front of her and smiles back at Nox. As an after thought, she states to the receptionist, "Can you please have them dim the lights in the suite, please. Ms. Nox has an eye condition and the dresses are for an evening event anyway. "Yes, Ms. Frost," The young woman replies, clicking a few things into her computer screen. "It'll only be a few minutes." She turns away to make a few quiet phone calls. Emma turns back to Nox with a smile. "I hope you don't mind that I've dragged you here. It's just - a personal shopper seemed like a less trying way for you to approach this process, rather than trying to mingle with customers and staff at another store. They can be overwhelming." If Nox were impressed before, she grows more so upon seeing Emma so adeptly handle the staff and environment. Her steps are slower in following but only to allow herself more time to look around before focusing on her hostess again. 'Capable' comes unbidden from her mind, a word tinged with respect. "I think I would enjoy shopping more if all outings took this form. Thank you. I don't mind at all." Her head turns, and the receptionist is studied for a moment, before she refocuses on Emma. "You move so easily through this world. Natural ability or the benefit of long practice?" "I actually feel a little rusty, to be truthful. It's been a number of years, but yes. I did grow up in this world." Emma steps away from the desk and waits, letting her mind wander to those around her, gleaning Nox's comfort levels, but not probing too hard today. "The problem with shopping excursions like this is that they are expensive. You have to pay not only for the dress, but the shopper's time and the amenities they provide." Emma looks around and lets out a nostalgic sigh. "Luckily, the club is footing the bill for this." After a few minutes, a young woman with long brown hair arrives and quietly escorts them to an elevator and up a floor, down a hallway and into a large room which has three chairs set up, two with a small table in between, champagne on ice with two flutes near by. The windows have been covered and a warm amber light fills the room from many small glowing light bulbs in chandeliers and candelabra. As they are shown to their seats, a group of young women come in wearing a variety of white and black dresses for the customers to look at. "Here's how this works, Nox," Emma begins as she takes her seat and waits for the champagne to be poured. "The dresses are best worn when they have been fitted to your individual body. They are able to show them off at their best by having shop clerks model them for us. We'll pick out dresses we like and try on ready-to-wear sizes, and if we choose to buy one, they will fit them today, and we will pick them up later." "That is generous of them," Nox murmurs. She is not entirely comfortable in this setting but it's at a manageable level, balanced neatly with an inherent curiosity--and, truth be told, a glimmer of pleasure at being able to indulge in an experience like this. Vanity is dangerous; normally she might eschew it but this is an immense temptation and she's falling to it. During the quiet wait, she continues to look around and then follows their guide in silence, without comment. Her gaze is a restless thing, drinking everything in. When Emma sits, so too does Nox. When she directs her attention to the stream of models entering, she looks there and behind her glasses, her eyes widen. A low hum fills the air around her, subvocal. "Would it...will it help if I were to say that I can...fit anything?" she asks, looking over at the other woman. "Shadows, like water, will fill what they can." "Yes and no," Emma admits, her eyes locked on a white dress with lilac embroidery, making it look like lace over the top of silk, a small dreamy look on her face. "Yes, you could take the dress immediately. No, because that gives certain opportunities for sculpting you to fit the dress. Some designers would flip over the chance to have a woman they could make any shape." She picks up a glass of bubbly and tears her attention away. "Would you like something to eat too? There are snacks, so that the champagne doesn't make us too 'warm' too quickly." "No, thank you." Nox does reach for the second of the two flutes and lifts it to study the bubbles shimmering inside of the crystal. Her smile is small, wistful. "I rarely partake of much. Our dinner was enough for some time." But she can enjoy the sensual pleasure of the champagne, by indulging in a small sip. Afterwards, with the lights dimmed as they are, she reaches up to remove her glasses to better see the dresses on offer. The gown on display after Emma's lilac beauty has a similar lace and silk motif, though this one is silvery blue metallic over black, and a fuller skirt. She drinks it in with the same pleasure shown for the champagne. "It is like a dream. This. Your life. What you do." "Be ware of fairytales, my dear Nox," Emma warns quietly, taking another longer sip. "They are very often fraught with monsters and happy endings are only a few minutes of bliss before the next story with its monsters and demons begins." She looks to the shopper and shakes her head, dismissing the first five dresses. The girls walk away quietly, but there's a good deal of rustling in the back as they quickly change into something else. The women are left on their own for a little bit. "You won't mind if I eat, will you?" It is a sobering warning. Lucien's face flickers through her mind, his lashes lowered, his lips curled in a smile, the light around him promising the sort of happy endings that Emma speaks of. Nox's next sip of champagne is slightly longer before she replaces the flute on the table. "I am familiar with monsters," she murmurs, pushing thoughts of the man away. "What I have learned, in fighting them, is that the moments of bliss should be treasured. They are what makes the darkness bearable." A smile is found again and turned towards Emma. "Of course not. Please do. Have I said thank you yet, for your taking me under your wing?" Emma gives a small derisive laugh that reverberates quietly in her champagne flute at the thought of bliss. She inhales deeply and refocuses as the next set of dresses come out. Most of these are dark, so Emma watches Nox as she peruses them. "It is no trouble, to be honest. I rarely get to do things like this. Generally, I am the person who takes the notes and bickers with venders in order to make fairytale nights happen. I have to say that I am enjoying the ability to live vicariously through your experience here. Gives me a chance to remember the wonder of years ago." She is presented with a menu in which she orders some canapes. These darker gowns do earn some interest and they provide a welcome focus, given the tenor of Emma's laughter. The note contained therein is confusing, Nox isn't certain of how to respond for it. So she looks, gaze skimming over a black sheath with a sheer overdress embroidered with jet beads to one of organza, boasting a simple straight neckline and a ruched skirt that billows out like her own shadows. It's the latter which takes most of her attention; she is immediately charmed. "This is far preferable to bickering," she murmurs agreement. "I think...perhaps that one?" Emma nods and gets the shopper's attention, indicating Nox's preference in that one. The girls are sent back again, changing into another set. "We'll bring that one back out at the end. No need to make a decision before you've seen everything." She finally sets down her glass and wets her lips. "It is indeed better than bickering. This is where I am treated not as one of the worker bees, for once, but as a queen. I feel like everyone should feel like this from time to time - and its what I aim for when I do my work. Please let me know if I can do anything else." Nox's eyes turn briefly towards Emma. "I doubt any one could view you as only a worker bee, Ms. Frost. You would make a poor drone, I think." She turns her attention back to the girls. Whether they will notice or not, she gives the parading models a smile that's meant to show gratitude for their efforts. "Do you suppose that is why Mr. Osborn has contracted you to arrange this gala?" she asks offhandedly. She reaches for her champagne again. "A man who appears to have everything, and yet he seeks out the person who will make him feel...like a queen." There is another of those low hums. "Alas, no. I don't think he actually had sort of feeling one way or another when we started this job. I come part and parcel with the venue. Yes, Mr. Osborn could have chosen another locale, or asked for a different coordinator, but I'm the best at the best location and that is likely all he thought about." Emma watches the girls come in with a group of white dresses. She is immediately drawn to strapless white dress of silk crepe de chine with gently tugged, beautifully draped front and a train in the back. She gestures to it and lets the afternoon's shopping continue. "No small distinction, to be the best at the best." Nox's attention lingers for a moment before she returns to studying the gown. Her eyes are drawn to the detail of that white one as well and she notes, "You would look striking in that," before she takes another sip of champagne. The rest of the day flows by in a glory of clothing, of accessories, of make-up and all things wonderful to a woman so long deprived of them--a fairy tale reprieve in a dark current.