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Old 03-04-2021, 05:41 PM   #81 (permalink)
BanaBatGirl
Dark Force Defense League

MLE & DoM
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Join Date: May 2007
Location: Gotham
Posts: 51,207

Hogwarts RPG Name:
TBD
Gryffindor

Hogwarts RPG Name:
Zara H. Bunbury-Foster
Slytherin
Fourth Year

Ministry RPG Name:
Bernadette O. Grantham
Law Enforcement

Ministry RPG Name:
David O. Truebridge
Mysteries
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Professor Pink | Mrs. Bruce Wayne | I'm on a Goat | Glitterpuff | Dumbledore's Defense Squad | BHB

Quote:
Originally Posted by DaniDiNardo View Post
It had to be here. Avery had searched every music shop on this side of London and was growing impatient with the whole thing. While she understood it was a rarer title, she didn't understand the run around she'd been put through.

The young woman moved through the shop, browsing title after title. She had the sinking feeling this would not be the last stop on her tour.

It was typical, really. Her one day off in weeks and she had to spend it on what was obviously a wild goose chase. Truthfully, she didn't need to get a copy for herself. She could always borrow it from another of the dancers but with the show coming up so soon, no one had the time to be nice.

It was every (wo)man for themselves and she needed to get in the work if she had any hope of future consideration.
David still enjoyed wandering London on occasion, even though he was less lonely than he had been in the past, and thus had less free time to devote to long walks of solitude and Deep Thoughts. He also didn't always go into and out of every shop; this much was still true, unless he had a purpose or a greater cause to his wanderings....

Or unless someone or something caught his eye. Today's case was the latter. From the window, he saw the young woman touching almost everything in this store and then grew curious as to why she was doing this, and what was she looking for, and so he wandered in and started looking at the various records himself, as though he really had a vested interest in music. It was too much, this shop. Too many tables, too many piles of records; it lacked organization and direction, and what's more, the music blaring over the loudspeakers was just that: L O U D.

He didn't even need nor want any of these records, but he supposed the people who were purchasing them were fascinating sometimes. And music was alright, he also supposed, though it was inferior to the visual arts; and then, really, both music and art were inferior to the written word, or language arts, if one were keeping track of the unnecessary hierarchies he often made in his mind. For fun.
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