Monotony is Bliss

[girlie]

Armand sat behind the counter of his mother's store, lounged out and on the verge of falling asleep. Today was supposed to be a big day for business - he'd gotten a call last night for a huge order in rare narcotics and was expecting huge payment in return.

The ebony feline himself was stoned out of his mind, and just sat, relaxing until something happened. But then again, nothing really ever happened at his mother's store, and he found himself happy to say that. Poor business was bad for his mother, but then again, his high wouldn't get interrupted by actual whiney clients instead of his own druggy cients.

The slimy cat look especially sleezy today, wearing baggy black pants, a chain around his neck, and a tight, black wife-beater. As he reclined, his hands crossed over his stomach, his head against the wall behind him, pushing his oily hair out of his face for once. Armand Rufio was nearly asleep, and feeling blissful with the sheer monotony of his life.

[Rook]

When Marcus entered the shop he tried his best not to be self concious about the poor way he had dressed himself, he knew the servants would have botched the job. Commoners clothing- not as easy to pull off as one would think. Marcus would rather shoot himself than be caught looking unappealing- in any form- but it was hard to do it without one of his designer suits or coats...he always loved things like that.

He decided to revert back to a point of old Borzoi wisdom- beauty is simplicity. He bought a sweater from one of the small shops on the Walk, as well as a pair of pants- both tight fitting but inexpensive. Black and white. See? Simple?

His browsing had led him here- but not particularily as an act of fate- he'd known the local, known who and what was in here. He came in with his eyes on the ground, and then he slowly lifted them.

[girlie]

Armand nearly fell off his chair when he heard the door to the store open, trying to appear alert and aware. Was this his mysterious cumstomer? The cat slowly stood up, clearing his throat at the newcomer and giving him a slightly glowering look when he saw who it was.

"May I help you?" the feline questioned politely, thinking that this customer must be here for a stuffy nose or something of the innocent sort. Armand still felt as if he were about to fall asleep, and leaned his muscled body against the counter for support, tracking the council-member's movements with predatorial subtlety.

Swiping the lure of sleep out of his eyes, the feline realized that he was thirsty and feeling a bit hungry, which gave him yet another reason to try and get this customer on his way - so that he could close up for five minutes to get some chow.