Return of the Blind Ninja

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Ordering clothes and equipment from the internet is all well and good, but after Matt's entanglement with the FBI several years ago, the idea of completely untraceable gear has been a tempting prospect. Today, he's browsing the shopping district, rubbing fabrics between his fingers to test its properties, in search of something that might deflect bullets or knives.

It's the Nexus, you never know.

Unfortunately, despite his enhanced senses, there is at least one important factor in purchasing clothes that he cannot overcome on his own. Footsteps mark the approach of someone else, and though Matt keeps his white cane tucked close to his feet to be out of the walkway, it's visible enough to be obvious if you know what you're looking at.

"Excuse me, what color is this?"



[ooc: usual disclaimer - Matt is blind but his other senses are enhanced to superhuman extremes. Feel free to add nonvisual sensory details in your tags that might help him get a better idea of who your character is or what they've been doing recently.]

Comments

[smartass_captain]

Clothes shopping for someone else is a frustrating, fruitless prospect in Jim's opinion. Sure, he Knows his husband's measurements more or less but taste and preference are such a huge factor. Still. He needs something loose he can pull on and off gently. It's been a work in progress.

Matt will hear another shopper shifting clothing on racks nearby long before he needs to speak up. Male, caffeine dependent if the smell of coffee lingering on him is anything to go by. There's a fainter, bitter herbal scent clinging to him as well that he's tried to remove. Owns a pet.

And is much more friendly when addressed than his grumbling might have hinted at. Jim glances around the rack to the jacket Matt's holding out his direction.

"Electric purple is probably how I'd describe that. It's definitely A Bold Statement."

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Some of those scents are vaguely familiar, though not enough that Matt can recognize him right off the bat. Definitely someone he's bumped into once or twice, though. The aroma of coffee is particularly distinct, more artificial undertones than Starbucks, black and bitter.

He makes a good-natured face when the other man describes the color, and the voice is the clue that helps him connect the dots to the young man who'd been part of the winter survival operations several years past. A military officer of some kind? Or something close to that. "Electric, you say. That's not quite what I'm looking for, I have to admit."

[unholyandbroken]

"The one on the left is a reddish brown." the voice is female and young with a Southern accent. A slight whiff of cigarettes is there since its been a few hours since she had one. Also strong coffee mixed with booze, social level drinking. A click of a Zippo can be heard, she was also buying lighter fluid.

[R!63 and pre series AMC Jesse Custer as an FYI!]

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

"Too bad." Matt feels along the edge of the rack and clicks the hanger back into place, brushing his fingertips across the shoulders of the other shirts. "Are any of these black?"


[ooc: Not familiar with the canon at all but good to know, thanks!]

[debonairsharpshooter]

For a giant alien robot, Misfire enjoys clothes shopping. Though for him it's less clothes shopping and more clothes 'scanning'. All he has to do is take a scan of whatever hideous shirt he's taken a shine too and ha can access it in his holographic 'wardrobe'. Very convient. He loves dressing up his little human holo-av. It's much like a character customizer in a video game.

"Huh?" he looks up from the truly awful pink button-up he's examining, "It's kinda like... Well I think it's light blue but I feel like that's the sort where you just THINK it's blue but then you bring it home and it turns out in different light it was lavender all along."

He's probably a weird sort of fellow for Matt to be around. Misfire's real body is circling high above so his avatar can explore places he can't get into normally. He's warm but not as much as a human, and it's an even radiant heat, nothing concentrated in certain areas. There's no sound of a heart beat, no inflating of lungs, or rustle of clothes. There is a simulated footstep though, and the quietest buzz of static no normal ears would likely pick up. Weirdly he doesn't have any smell either. Which is totally inaccurate to his currently look. A Mohawk as impressive as the one his avatar sports would need SO much product to stay standing.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Footsteps are usually indicator enough that there's a person there, and it's not until halfway through his sentence that he realizes something is amiss. There are no sounds of biological life, no echo of a physical form, nothing that could reasonably create those footsteps. But there is something there, a vague heat that reminds him of sunbeams coming through a window on a winter day.

What on Earth is he talking to?

The voice is friendly enough, rambling though it is, and Matt's expression might be a bit more baffled than the stranger's answer might account for. "Oh, well, I'm looking for black so that wouldn't do either way."

[ginger_firebird]

Mantis is blessed to have never really experience much lost of his eyesight after all the fire damage his face took. He smells vaguely of cat, wool, and jam lately, even if it's all trace amounts lingering to his clothes. He can spy the blind man a mile away, cane and all, but the question is so simple, he has to pause and offer some help.

He'll lean in, making the hiss of his gas mask that much more noticable. While he can go without it, to a degree, it's purely for special occasions and certain social gatherings.

"Burgundy, I think, is the right name for that color. I know it doesn't mean much for you, but it's the dark reddish-brown of a weathered clay brick. I'm more of an all black every day type myself. Much easier to coordinate."

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

A gas mask is an... interesting accessory. Matt can't tell if it's a medical necessity, of course, and it takes him a moment to understand what he's hearing - not just the hiss but the echoes he gets that trace out the shape, making the wearer's expression that much more obscured to his senses.

He doesn't recoil from the closeness, just tilting his head slightly, paying more attention to what he's hearing and smelling. "I think I remember what that looks like. Dark reds would be all right, but I'm really looking for black, too. Something durable."

[delphicbooksandbaubles]

Aal's pondering over which nonperishable supplies to get before she heads to the library. As well as what soon to be fall things to get before it gets too chilly for her comfort.

Her ears perk up, when she sees a semi-familiar figure. She gives a little, smile and steadyily starts to pad over so as to not spook him by say going fast as an excited to see you kind of puppy way. She's got sneakers on not boots yet. So she's not sure how much noise they'll make other then perhaps the occasional annoying squeak on certain surfaces.

"Oh ello there." She murmurs warmly as she'd just been thinking of him the other day funnily enough. When she ran into someone with well, not exactly the same physical issues. But her hopefully new freind had been teaching her a little sign language. Which..Again, wouldn't be of use to make this easier for Mister Murdock.

Dang, it. "Um, ahem. Oh..ah." She murmurs a little hesitate as her ears twitch under her hoodie. He'd likely get a whiff of gingerbread and likely a stronger one of canine for starters. She'd been baking a little late last night. And well being a shifter was sometimes complicated for a number of reasons. "It looks a bit more on the violent er violet side to me." She murmurs helpfully before clearing her throat. Wincing at her wording, {Oh real smooth, dum dum} She thinks reproachfully wry at herself.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Sneakers are more than loud enough for Matt to notice; spending his whole life in New York has made all kinds of footsteps part of the regular background noise, and most New Yorkers don't care to be stealthy when they're out and about. He doesn't know her well, of course, but he tends to remember the more unique smells that some people have, and hers isn't quite like someone who owns a dog.

The slip of the tongue brings a small quirk to the side of his mouth, not quite a smile but something very close."Well, I suppose purple is close, but it's not really what I'm looking for."

[hyrokkinson]

"What are you, blind?" the young man, would be seventeen years old if he was human, but he's definitely not a human, he's colder than one... he's a (very, very short, for one) Frost Giant who rarely hides that fact- says.

"A blind fashionista or whatever? Geez, only on Earth."

So they're not on Earth right now. So what.

[cotyledon]

The footsteps are normal enough sounding, and whoever it is approaching is breathing like any human being, but Matt may well notice the lack of pulse as she gets closer enough. She seems to have a lower body temperature than many humans, as well. The scents clinging to her are pleasant, though. Earthy, garden scents, a little peppermint tea, and the very faint, waxy-sweet scent of high-end makeup. The voice is very feminine.

"Ohh, that's...um, that's actually really ugly. I mean--sorry, I guess that's subjective? But it's that weird camo print with fluorescent orange in it that deer hunters sometimes wear, and I think..."

She reaches into the rack close by and tugs at one of the hangers, creating a creak and a couple soft metallic clinking noises. "Yeah, there's a logo on the back. It says 'go buck wild'. I don't thiiiiiiink that's probably what you're looking for...?"

She shouldn't assume, really, but it seems a little unlikely that a blind man--especially one in very classic city-dweller clothing--would be planning a deer hunting trip. Unless it's for a gift.

It would not be a good gift.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

The lack of a heartbeat is jarring, uncomfortably familiar, though the scents are enough to hint right away that she's not the Hand, even before she speaks. It's definitely not Toby either, the vampire he'd met before, although it's hard to tell if she's the same species or not. There are a lot of people who sound and smell human here, who aren't.

He laughs softly, feeling for the rack and clicking the hanger back in place. "No, that's about the exact opposite. It feels pretty warm, though. I wouldn't mind something with a little padding."

[tr1ckortreat]

The lure of the fabric shop had Loki walking through the doors just to see what he could purchase in the shape of some refined green cloth. Perhaps something with a pattern on it since he could allow his magic to do the rest. Creating his own garb out of one piece of cloth had it's advantages when you were a trickster god. Last month he had fashioned himself a rather fetching dark green scarf with gold trim.

The man's question caught the god slightly off guard as he turned to face the voice. It seemed there was something not quite right with his sight. Was he blind? Unfortunate indeed. Yet, Loki was nice enough to answer and without the usual snarky quip added to the end.

"Blue. More a teal but it's a nice shade. I, myself, am looking for a deep shade of green to fashion myself a new outfit."

The idea being a jerkin with gold buttons matched with some black linen pants. He frowned at the man and wondered who he was since the face was unfamiliar. Ah, another Nexus resident added to the masses.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

That voice. Matt hadn't been certain just from listening to him walk, the swish of his clothes and hair, the strange scents clinging around him. But the voice is unmistakable.

Matt hasn't spoken to Loki much in person, of course, but he's aware enough of the god of mischief's presence to recognize that British drawl (and why British, if he's Norse?). His body language stiffens a little, not quite unfriendly but not entirely welcome, either. "Didn't think I'd run into your clothes shopping. Can't you just... make it with magic?"

[angelic_asshole]

"I wouldn't pick it, love. It's bright neon pink. Unless that's what you're into for a preference. But I would have pegged you as a dressed in everything as long as it's black sort of guy."

Balthazar was perusing the aisles of the store, picking up pieces of fabric and wondering what to pick. A gift for Jack? Possibly. The man loved his scarves so right now the angel was picking out a gift for his housemate. Blue, green, purple? What did the New York rebel enjoy? Glancing back to the man he could tell his loss of sight must be difficult for him to make choices.

"What sort of colour were you looking for?"

He could offer help even if he was busy choosing for Jack also because this guy seemed new to the Nexus. That, or Balthazar hadn't bumped into him yet.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Hot pink is most certainly not what Matt is after. Clothes shopping is hard without someone to help you pick things out, and then you're at the mercy of random strangers. Fortunately, Matt can tell when most folks are lying, listening to that subtle increase in heartbeat and the rush of blood in their veins.

The stranger's analysis of Matt's fashion sense isn't quite on the money, though. His suit is a dark gray, his tie a rich red striped with black and gold, the dress shirt beneath white and fairly clean. He shifts the apparently-hot-pink-shirt he's holding and sets it back on the rack with a small clink, brushing his fingertips over the shoulders of the shirts near it. "Black, mostly, though I'm open to a nice dark red. Something like a wine color, I think." Matt's memory of certain shades of color is fuzzy after so long, but he feels confident enough in this particular fashion choice.

[the_rebel_son]

Lucifer wasn't the shopping type usually. Maybe this was Balthazar's incessant shopping rubbing off on him or the change of seasons. Whatever it was he was perusing the dress shirts.

For someone who relies on other senses his presence maybe overwhelming. The space around him is slightly warmer from the heat radiating from his wings. They carry the scent of spring rains, flowers, and a hint of sulfur. Maybe even a hint of apple and church incense for someone who really pays attention. The shifting of the hundreds of feathers brushing against each other as they moved with his thoughtful consideration of the clothing before him.

He wears satin most of the time though the shirt he's wearing under the vest is silk; the tightish fit on his slim figure causing the fabrics to rub more than usual. Dress shoes shuffling on the floor and the slow breath of someone calm and consideration. Perhaps even the perpetual brushing back of the lock of hair falling into his face is audible.

He had seen the man beside him when he shifted to another place to continue his search but hadn't paid him much mind until he posed the question. Lucifer turns and that is when he notices the blindness. He's very used to this since his own child and advisor have the same disability.

He makes a thoughtful sound while considering. "Sky blue dusted with a grey like the blue just before sunrise. Pale slate blue perhaps?"

Lucifer is trying to tone down his own vision to match something a human could relate to, especially a blind human, since his eyes see millions of colors beyond human eyes.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

The wings are definitely an ear-catcher, and Matt's attention is drawn to them long before he asks his question. He's already met one angel here, though Aziraphale had kept his wings concealed somehow, seeming perfectly human to even Matt's greater senses. This... angel? ...seems to feel no such need to be undercover, multiple pairs exposed to the open air as bold as anything, though this still can't be his True shape, surely. Aziraphale had said as much, that beholding an angel's real form would still overwhelm a sightless man, and that tracks well enough with what Matt has been taught by the Church.

Something about the scents that cling to him doesn't seem quite right, but how is he supposed to know what a divine being is supposed to smell like?

Either way, the answer is helpful in filling in the gaps in Matt's senses. He rubs the shirt's fabric between his fingers, a fine cotton that seems higher grade than most he can find at home. "Are there any of these in black? Or a dark red, maybe. Like communion wine."

[silverseamariner]

There's the sound of clicking claws as a strange creature approaches. She seems to carry the scent of the sea with her as she walks, salt and fish and the ocean air. skekSa leans in to get a better look at the cloth when she's asked the question, narrowing red eyes as she examines it. Hmm. Curious, definitely Earth material, nothing from Thra.

"A sort of ruddy-brown from the look of it. Not a bad color at all, in my experience it goes well with blues and whites, maybe red. Where did you pick this up, if I may ask? It's of good make. In my planet, we don't have access to human fashion."

She's not the Ornamentalist, which is for the best - she likes to think that she has an eye for fashion, but lacks skekEkt's gaudiness. Fashion is one of many elements of Skeksis culture she's critical of.

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

If not for the lack of any sound of feathers - except a single one on her hat - Matt's first thought is that he's being approached by a giant bird. A bird wearing clothes, at that. There's a faint jingle of jewelry as she moves her head, a swish of loose billowy clothing cinched tighter at her waist, and all of it smells like the sea breeze that sometimes blows in from off the shore of Manhattan.

"Just this rack," he answers, reaching out to pat for the circular clothing rack he's standing next to. "I'm not sure all of this is human fashion. I think I've found a shirt or two with extra arm holes already today."

[itmeanstruth]

Minoru had been simply passing by, but stopped when he heard the other man say, ‘excuse me.’ He noticed the white cane almost instantly, but unfortunately, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the question.

“Sorry, sorry...” Minoru quickly bowed to save face. Matt might hear the rustling, but otherwise it was a wasted action.

“I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s black! But you just happened to be at the ‘I’m Only Wearing Black Until They Make Something Darker’ stand. Everything from here... to here...” He quickly moved in between two points, letting his voice carry so the man would at least have a rough idea of where one set of merchandise stopped and another started. “It’s nothing BUT black.”

On the bright side, that probably meant everything within arm’s reach would match!

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

If Matt was sensitive to being laughed at, he wouldn't have made it to law school. The bow doesn't escape his notice either, the shape of the echoes around the other man shifting more than enough to make it clear how he's moving. Matt doesn't reciprocate or respond to the gesture, of course.

"That's good, actually," he says, a small good-natured smile on his face. "Black is one of the colors I was looking for. To here, you said?" He taps at the floor with his cane, right at the outer edge of where Minoru had indicated.

[craftyredfox]

Nick Wilde was nearby, looking at clothes himself. It was sort of nice shopping in the Nexus. Having all these different size options. And it gave him an opportunity to purchasing different fashion than what is offered in Zootopia.

Nick's heartbeat is definitely faster than a normal human. Because of his diminutive size, and the fact that he is a fox, his heart is smaller, and thus beats faster. There is no wildness smell to his fur, but there is that slight wet dog hint because it was just recently raining. There is smells of candy and coffee on his clothes. And the slight rustle when his tail hits some clothing beside him.

When he speaks, Matt might notice the height difference, judging from the fact that Nick's voice must be lifted up to reach Matt's ears.

"It is a nice moss green. With slightly darker stripes."

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

Matt has long since gotten used to the strange variety of shapes and sizes that people come in the Nexus, but it's still no less of a novelty to realize that the closest person in earshot is furry and small. He's not personally familiar with how a fox smells, but it's distinctly Animal, despite walking on two legs and wearing... is that a tie? It sounds like one.

He turns his face downward a little, more toward where he thinks the stranger's face is. "That's a shame. Green isn't really my color, or so people tell me. Do they have it in black, or a dark red?"

[lecouturier]

Anyone attempting to purchase off-the-rack clothing within the view of a particular tailor will always hear about it. Matt may have a slight pass, but Alex is not about to let this poor man commit crimes against Fashion by grabbing... whatever it is he has his hands on. He approaches at a determined pace, the hard soles of his shoes causing a distinct click with every step.

"Wrong," he states in a very clipped, matter-of-fact tone. "All wrong, if I'm being honest. There's more wrong than just the color, but trust me when I tell you linen comes in far better colors than that awful thing in your hands."

The tailor tuts his tongue and huffs an exasperated breath as he snatches the offensive clothing from Matt's hands. Underneath his upset facade, Alex's heartbeat is only slightly elevated, strong and steady as the steps he took on his way to rescue Matt. Rather than a standard cologne, Matt will be able to smell a hint of vanilla, concentrated enough to smell lightly sweet at Alex's wrists. Everything about the man says 'clean cut', even when one can't see his state of dress.

"No, no, I'm not going to let you do this to yourself. If you've time to shop here, you've time to come to my shop and let you make something." Alex turns slightly and offers his arm to Matt, close enough for the man to find with an extended hand but not so close as to invade personal space. "I'm a tailor," he adds in explanation. "And a man of fashion. I'll have you properly attired in only a few hours, if you'll take the chance."

[he_put_the_devil_in_me]

"Excuse me?" It's one thing to get advice on color, but being told straight off the bat that this choice is just 'wrong' is not what Matt was expecting to hear. It's only because of his enhanced senses that he has enough warning before the shirt is snatched out of his hand, and at first he thinks this is some 'well-meaning but overbearing fellow shopper' situation - it wouldn't be anywhere near the first time it's happened to him.

Hearing that this man is an actual tailor gives him pause, reeling back the more terse reply he'd been preparing to give. "I don't know if I can afford higher-end clothing," he ventures instead, since that's always a concern. He may be a lawyer, but that's never meant a fat paycheck every week thus far.