It's a rather quaint town when you get down to it. At least, that's what the Sheriff would argue. Warm and dry in the mornings and afternoons with a brisk coolness in the evenings. The perfect type of weather to just sit out on your rocking chair and observe the comings and goings.
... Of course, there's not much in the way of comings and goings when there aren't any actual people here to watch. Nevertheless, don't let that get you down! The town is your oyster and those roosters won't stop crowing until everyone's out of bed. Up and at 'em, rise and shine, it's time to make the day yours!
Except there is, perhaps, a few things amiss.
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[ ... Chane stands utterly still as he does so, presumably not really intending to participate. She doesn't want to have to be the one to dress you, Barnham! She's not your mother. Minutes could pass in this unfortunate stalemate but, lucky for him, she's too practical to waste that sort of time. When it becomes clear he's not really engaging with the clothes selection process, Chane sighs internally and disappears into the racks.
A few seconds later, she re-emerges with a shirt and vest combo. No tie, because he doesn't need anything else constricting him, and lightweight fabric. ]
[ The moment the clothes are in his hand, she lets go of it and... adds a pair of matching trousers to the growing pile on his arm. Where did they even come from? Did she have those a moment ago?
[ Now that her hands are free, she can scribble down her answer. ]
You're a fool
[ That... feels a bit too withering a condemnation, honestly, so Chane scratches it out. He can still read it, of course. "Scratching out" means drawing a single, firm line through the middle of the word.
Below it: ]
You're unprepared for this town's game, I've realised. But, your intentions are good. Therefore, I've taken it upon myself to keep you alive.
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sheriffexe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
robowest2017-01-23 12:00 pm
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He's going!! To do the thing!!
And he's going to stare dully at the western clothing.
Uh.]
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[ ... Chane stands utterly still as he does so, presumably not really intending to participate. She doesn't want to have to be the one to dress you, Barnham! She's not your mother. Minutes could pass in this unfortunate stalemate but, lucky for him, she's too practical to waste that sort of time. When it becomes clear he's not really engaging with the clothes selection process, Chane sighs internally and disappears into the racks.
A few seconds later, she re-emerges with a shirt and vest combo. No tie, because he doesn't need anything else constricting him, and lightweight fabric. ]
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But oh, classy! It's much better than the items he was first looking at; he quirks an eyebrow at her, and then sighs and reaches for the clothing.]
Do not take this as willing participation in your needless ordering me around--I simply see the wisdom in accepting this clothing.
[...]
Thank you.
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It is a mystery. ]
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He just quirks an eyebrow at that.]
... While I am not unhappy with your assistance, surely it was unnecessary to you.
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You're a fool[ That... feels a bit too withering a condemnation, honestly, so Chane scratches it out. He can still read it, of course. "Scratching out" means drawing a single, firm line through the middle of the word.
Below it: ]
You're unprepared for this town's game, I've realised. But, your intentions are good. Therefore, I've taken it upon myself to keep you alive.
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He scowls a little despite himself.]
Madam, I do not require you to make judgements on me--nor did I ask for your protection. Mind your own safety first.
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